


Wayfaring Stranger

by YouSaidWho



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Lieutenant!Killian, Pirate!Emma, Sexytimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 14:49:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 46,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3213104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouSaidWho/pseuds/YouSaidWho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The young lieutenant didn't expect to be saved by the fearsome captain of the Wandering Lady. Nor did he expect her fire to be imprinted upon his very being. As he finds himself captured, he wonders if he can bring back a woman long gone? Or if his hands will become just as bloodied and desperate... Pirate!Emma, Lieutenant!Killian. Smut and Language, as per usual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The moonlight slid over the waves as the Wandering Lady floated through the endless oblivion. Her hull cut through the water like a silent predator led only by the northern star. Around her, the wash of the sea upon wood was the only sound that could be heard, save for the occasional whine of the wind bouncing off the continuous ocean.

Her captain stood poised at the helm, staring out at a point in the distance intently, her face giving away no clue as to what could be there

"Graham," she called, as she lowered her spyglass from her emerald green eyes. Her first mate came stumbling from his cabin and she ordered him, "Rouse the crew. I spot a sinking ship. No bloodletting. This is a salvage mission."

"Aye, Captain." The handsome man gave her a swift nod before heading off below decks. Within minutes, the ship was a hive of movement, men moving across the wooden boards as they prepared themselves to plunder the ship that was coming swiftly upon them.

The captain of the Wandering Lady steered her starboard, manoeuvring them until they were alongside the half submerged ship and watching the water lap dangerously close to the deck.

"Only four at a time," the Captain called harshly, "I don't want you dogs dying on my watch."

The four men nearest the railing nodded as ropes were thrown down from the sails. Crossing a plank would be far too dangerous and the Captain wasn't willing to dive in after her crew if it meant the risk of pneumonia. She respected them enough to give them warning, it was up to them after that to keep themselves alive.

Which is why, when a raucous yell came from below the decks of the sinking ship, she swore beneath her breath. Clearly the ship belonged to the navy and from what she knew of navy ships, they always had spare boats in the event of things like this.

Evidently this one didn't.

"Bloody hell," she muttered, throwing off her long sweeping jacket as she raced down the stairs. She beckoned to the young boy in the crow's nest and he threw her a rope without hesitation. Wrapping it around her wrist, she gave herself a well adjusted, calculated and practiced run up before using the railing to push herself into the air.

Letting go of the rope, she rolled across the damp deck of the navy ship, wetting her shirt with freezing cold water in the process. Getting to her feet quickly, she drew her gleaming sword and hurried down after her crew to where she found a warm and sweaty room filled with dampness and men. They had her crew in strangleholds and the captain simply looked at the strange men incredulously. There had to be around seven of them; where the rest of the navy crew were, she didn't know nor care.

"You appear to be sinking, gentlemen," she stated almost mockingly, eyes scanning over them. It was a man from the back who called.

"We are the King's men. We will die with honour."

"I see your honour and raise you a cowering in the darkness as you wait for death to seal its icy wet hands around your throats."

The men gasped at the woman's harsh words. She continued, unfazed. "Your captain has said his piece, but what of you men? Would you prefer to be saved?"

A hushed whispering grew amongst them, even as the Naval Captain tried to regain control of his men.

"Live as free men, or die slaves to the crown," she called out amongst them, voice growing stronger. "What say you?"

"Aye!" A resounding call echoed and the pirate smiled.

"Let's go then," she ordered, climbing up the stairs the moment her men were released from their stranglehold, followed by the troupe of former naval officers. It was easy. Perhaps too easy to get them to change their allegiance. Taking aside on of the pirates who had come with her she muttered, "Booth, take young Locksley and teach him what we do with our enemies."

The young man seemed to hesitate as he looked up into his captain's eyes. "I don't mean any disrespect, Captain, but surely the young man well, men, would be worth more for ransoming?"

"Men?" the captain inquired sharply.

"The captain," Booth rushed, "And his lieutenant."

The pirate captain pondered a moment, "Perhaps I was hasty," she said reasonably. "You made a good call Booth. Bind them and blindfold them. I'll try and secure a gangplank for safe passage."

It would be difficult, the Captain thought as she watched the naval officers climb up ladders to board the Wandering Lady. It was quite a severe depth that this ship had sunk to. She was almost ankle deep in water and that was rising fast.

"Booth, hurry it up!" she called as she grasped hold of a rope thrown down by Graham. She hauled herself up the rope using the hull as stepping ground, thankful that she was wearing gloves otherwise her hands would be rubbed raw. She watched carefully as her crew secured the gangplank, calling out to her first mate.

"Humbert," the Captain ordered, "Get these men briefed on their duties, quarters; we make port in Senzen by dusk tomorrow to get them some less conspicuous clothing."

"And what of these two, Captain?" Graham enquired, nudging his head at the Navy Captain and Lieutenant who had just successfully managed to board the ship blindfolded with Roland and August at their backs.

"We have names, you know," the young one who she hadn't heard speak yet called in annoyance. His voice was young; impertinent. The kind of man she could deal without.

"Liam and Killian," the Captain answered without question, "The famous Jones brothers. Pride of the royal navy, oh yes, I know you." She stalked forward leading the way down to the brig as her crew continued to nudge the two behind her. "Thing is though, I don't care. You'll be out of my hands tomorrow. And I'll be far from here and I'll never have to see the two of you again."

She snapped the metallic door closed behind them, but not before considering and pulling the knots from the back of the blindfolds upon their faces.

"You should remember your desolation," she nodded in appreciation as she turned to leave. But in the next second, the sound of metal clanging forced her to turn around. Her crew had already left; it was just her and her prisoners. The Captain stood in the shadows. It was Lieutenant Killian Jones who spoke to her.

"And what should we call you, milady?" the lieutenant asked almost mockingly, his hands – those hands looked interesting – wrapped around the metal bars as he brought his face up to rest on them.

"My crew call me Captain Swan," she answered coldly. "Call me anything less and I'd be worried about that pretty face of yours, Lieutenant."

Then she shut the door.

He watched it for hours, fuming, after she left.


	2. I am a poor wayfaring stranger

**_17 Years Ago..._ **

_"Hey, Emma!"_

_"Shh, Graham! I'm hiding! I don't want mom to find me!"_

_"Why? Snow doesn't mind it when you skip out on class."_

_"No!" The young girl folded her arms under the shade of the oak trees. "I hate princess lessons. I'm not going back..."_

* * *

 

"Hey, Emma."

The Captain looked up from her desk, her quill dropping onto her parchment with a light flutter. Her first mate was standing in the doorway, completely at ease.

"Shut the door," the Captain hissed, jumping up and pulling him inside before shutting the wooden door behind him. "Goodness, Graham, how am I supposed to maintain my reputation if the crew hears you calling me by name?"

"You'll lose that reputation yourself if you keep going the way you are now," Graham answered, pushing himself off the wall and skimming her shoulder as he headed over to where she'd been sitting. Leaning back in the wooden chair, he raised his boots onto the desk and lifted the paper she'd been writing on to peruse it with his grey eyes.

"What is this?" Graham exclaimed in horror, holding up the paper between two fingers. Emma hurried over to him, reaching over the desk to try and snatch it back with a frown on her face.

"I'm already in a bad mood, Humbert," she answered shortly, "Don't test me."

" ' _Ransom for the Jones' brothers. 1000 Gold or death awaits',"_ Graham read off the sheet of paper before Emma finally managed to snatch it back, tearing it in half in the process.

"Look at what you've done!" she hissed at Graham in anger, shaking in frustration. "I had such good penmanship and everything."

The man rolled his eyes, "Really? Are you twelve? Complaining about your handwriting?"

"Shut up. Yours isn't legible." Emma sighed and sat down on the edge of her desk, facing him. Even as she folded her arms across her body, her eyes softened with a glimpse of honest worry, "What's so bad about it?"

"It's soft, Emma. You've built a name for yourself, and ransoming isn't the style of infamous pirates. When was the last time we did something so simple?"

"We've never had anyone worth ransoming," Emma pointed out.

"And what makes you think these men are?" Graham growled. "They're a couple of pansies with uniforms and heads stuffed full of good form. Do what we normally do with the stragglers who don't choose our life."

"What? The courts?" It hadn't even crossed Emma's mind. It had been years since she'd sold someone there, and even then, only because the man had been so blasted annoying that it had been sell him or decapitate him – and she'd never been too fond of killing a man in cold-blood. If he attacked first, well, that was another thing all together.

"It might straighten them out," Graham suggested with an indifferent shrug.

"That's another five days journey to Denior," Emma pondered. "If there's fast winds. And I promised the men we'd stop in Senzen. It's been almost two months since we last saw port and they're getting…frustrated."

"They're not the only ones," Graham muttered, so quietly that Emma almost didn't hear him. But she did, and like always, she chose to ignore him. It had been once, just once, on a lonely night two years ago. And Emma constantly ignored the fact that Graham minded the ship when the crew went to taverns and brothels, and that he was the only one she trusted amongst her crew. Things like that happened when you grew up together on the streets; when you grew up together as pirates.

"So, Senzen overnight, then to Denior to make some slaves out of our dear lieutenant and captain," Emma nodded. Graham was right, she had a reputation to maintain.

"Aye, Captain," Graham said with a grin, pushing himself up from his desk. "I'll wake up the crew, then?"

"Let them sleep," she answered, with a wave of her hand. But upon second thought added, "But bring me Jones?"

"Which one?"

"The young one," Emma answered, "The lieutenant."

"Why?"

"You question me?" Emma imparted sharply, her eyes glaring at Graham harshly. He stepped back, surprised by the sudden change in her demeanour. Emma thought it shouldn't surprise him after all those years; that she could change so quickly and easily. But she supposed, it may lull him into a false sense of security when she was happy and comfortable; hell, it lulled  _her_  into a false sense of security. And security was something she could never have. And in this moment, Captain Swan had to reappear.

"No, Captain," Graham answered, his voice just as hard to hide his emotions. He exited the room, leaving Emma to her thoughts.

She didn't know why the youngest Jones had left such and imprint upon her. It couldn't be his impertinent attitude, because that was something she could verily live without. Nor his self-righteousness; good form and all that nonsense. She had form, and good or bad didn't matter as long as she survived – as long as Emma Swan won.

Maps were strewn across the table when Killian Jones was brought before her. She barely looked up when the door banged shut, (the evidence of Graham's anger with her) merely beckoning him forward with her hand. When he finally took the seat opposite her, Emma cracked her knuckles and rolled her neck. Even a few minutes spent pouring over the charts had her feeling the effects.

Her eyes roamed the lieutenant as she stretched. He hadn't said a word yet and for that she was surprised. Booth had been going on about how loud it was in the brig as he stood guard last night. Apparently it was Liam who preferred to make vague and obnoxious threats judging by the silence of the man before her. When Emma found that he was blatantly staring at her just as much as she was taking him in, she let a slow smile creep onto her face.

"Sleep well, Lieutenant?"

"You have rats," he answered, bored, his blue eyes almost teasing.

"I'll be sure to trade you for a cat at the next port, then," Emma retorted, remembering the conclusion that she'd come to. She let out a low chuckle when she realised she'd be trading him for a hefty amount of gold. Whether she liked it or not, Lieutenant Jones was worth a lot more than a cat. Even if she couldn't exactly see why.

"You and your brother won't be leaving in Senzen," she continued, leaning back in her chair easily as she folded her arms. "I've decided to sell you for a lot more."

"Where are you going to get more than….oh."

Her smile widened, revealing sparkling white teeth.

"Denior?"

"Smart lad," Emma answered patronisingly. "Denior."

"But that's illegal," Jones stuttered, eyes going wide in fear as his usual stone façade cracked.

"You're on a fucking pirate ship," Emma rolled her eyes. "If you wanted fair treatment, you should've joined my crew."

"I would never join you," Jones answered, and despite his fear, he still managed to emanate his hatred for her across the few metres of desk that separated them.

Emma leapt up, her hands flat upon the desk as she leaned over, "Don't test me, Jones. You might fight that you die before you reach the slave market."

"I fail to see the downside," the lieutenant answered, holding her harsh gaze with all the strength he could. And despite the fact that Captain Swan of the Wandering Lady had plundered every port town along the Eastern Coast without a dent to her name and destroyed every pirate foolish enough to challenge her, Killian Jones did not back down.

"You have five days to convince me you're worth more than five thousand gold, Jones or you'll be sold to the highest bidder." Emma wasn't sure where her leniency was coming from. She wouldn't say it was appreciation for his gall, because that was ridiculous. And nor would she say that the anger in his eyes stirred something in her that she hadn't felt in a very long time. Instead she continued, "I doubt you've ever been to Denior. but let's just say that there aren't many men and women who wouldn't pay highly for a face like yours."

But when Emma thought of what he could possibly do that would make her like him enough to let him live. She came up blank.

"Actually, I doubt you'll be able to convince me otherwise," she finished finally with a shrug. "Graham! Take our lieutenant back to the brig!"

And within minutes, Killian Jones was locked away once more.

* * *

 

It was dark outside by the time someone came down into the hold to fetch Killian from his cell. Liam protested as his brother was let out but Killian managed to quiet him, following Graham silently.

The Captain's first mate eyed him cautiously from the corner of his eye. Killian caught his eye and he looked away. They travelled across the empty deck and it was only then that Killian noticed the ship was docked in a portside town that cast a yellow glow over the water. Lamplight and raucous yells drifted across the water and he sighed. If only the Captain had stuck with the ransom idea.

"You may join the crew, Graham," Captain Swan said to the man behind him. Graham scoffed under his breath, "I'll be in my room."

Somehow it almost sounded like a warning.

"Killian Jones," Captain Swan grinned, "Impress me."

"With what, Captain?" he answered drily. "My sparkly wit, sarcasm and blatant hatred of you?"

Surprisingly, that made her smile.

"You don't hate me."

"Keep telling yourself that, lass," Killian answered, leaning back in his chair.

"Oh, I know hatred," she continued. "There was this one man…"

For a moment her face faltered, but then she let out a soft chuckle to hide it, continuing. "You know you remind me of him."

"Is that a good thing, or…"

"If you consider that I would opt to shoot him on sight a good thing," Swan shrugged. "Sure."

She said it so blatantly, her body so high strung and ready for an attack at any moment. Killian found his eyes watching her every move as she crossed the cabin to a cupboard filled with bottles of alcohol. She offered it to him as she found herself a glass.

"Drink?"

"The King's navy doesn't drink," Killian scoffed at her. Many a time Liam had let the sailors go into port towns to drink the night away, Killian had been the one to man the ship. It was simply good form.

"Explains why you're a bunch of ninnies then, doesn't it?"

Killian brow furrowed at her words. For a pirate, there had been an awful calmness, an almost quaintness, to the way she used words. It was class; it was breeding.

_What had turned this wandering lady into a pirate?_

Well, judging by the way she carried herself, she was confident in her abilities. And by the way she drank her rum, she was undoubtedly fond of the stereotypes.

But it didn't fit. She didn't quite belong.

"Alright Lieutenant," Swan said finally, putting the bottle down on her desk as she put her half empty glass beside it. "Here's the deal. Your brother is in my brig being a loudmouth, and quite honestly, I like my sleep to be peaceful. He disturbs it."

"Yes, he does have that tendency," Killian sighed, rolling his eyes at his brother despite being nowhere near him.

"Also, you should know that the crew of yours who have sided with me have proven valuable assets. And they've embraced their night in Senzen's numerous dens with joyous abandon."

"Good for them," Killian responded, although his fist was clenching in frustration on the arm of his chair. Swan saw it; she smiled.

"You could join them, you know?" she offered. "A woman for your bed, no fear of shame should you drink yourself into oblivion. It's a pirate's life, Lieutenant Jones."

And yet it didn't tempt him one bit.

At least, that's what he told himself...


	3. While travelling through this world of woe

  ** _Fifteen Years Ago_**

_"Mom says that I'm not allowed to play with you outside anymore," Emma frowned, throwing the grass away as she lay side by side with Graham. The boy in question was weaving grass in his fingers, a fine braid fixed with flowers eventuating between them._

_"Why not?"_

_"She says it's dangerous. I overhead her speaking with dad; I think someone wants to kill me."_

_"You're a princess, Emma," Graham answered, leaning over to place a spare flower in her hair. She was eight; she thought nothing of it. "Someone's always going to be out to kill you."_

_"But I think it's the evil queen," Emma answered, with a furrowed brow, turning her head to look over at Graham. "She's powerful."_

_"I'll never let anything happen to you," Graham answered, finding her hand amongst the grass. He took it in his own and held it there as they stared off at the clouds roaming the blue sky above them._

* * *

 

"Wake up, you bloody bastards!" Emma was walking through the crew's quarters at sunrise and pushing men out of hammocks with little concern as to the state of their hangovers. Since only half were here, it was plain that some had found other beds to sleep in that night.

"Locksley!"

"Aye, Captain!" The boy, a little over fifteen came running up to her. He was still addled from sleep but upon closer perusal didn't seem to be nursing quite the illness the other men were.

"Are you in your right mind?"

"Moreso than everyone else, Captain Swan," he answered honestly and that was good enough for her.

"I need you to go around to the brothels and find the rest of the crew."

The boys' eyes widened as he spluttered, "But Captain –"

"I trust you, Roland," Emma said, her hand on his shoulder. "I trust you to get this job done within the hour. What else you do in that hour is up to you."

The young man seemed horrified by the very thought. For a moment, he reminded Emma of Lieutenant Jones with all his good form. The boy nodded swiftly before hurrying out the door. Emma returned to her quarters via the brig. Looking in, she glimpsed Liam Jones' huddled form in the shadowy corner but her own eyes were fixated upon the man curled up on the floor against the metal bars.

He seemed innocent in sleep; not that he didn't seem innocent a lot of other times too…but he was almost peaceful. No scathing remarks about piracy – this man slept through a storm.

"Enjoying the view, Captain?"

Well, apparently he wasn't as asleep as she thought.

"It's as good as it gets down here," she answered haughtily. "We'll be departing in an hour."

"And you felt we deserved this kindness…"

"You don't," Emma shrugged, "You'll be joining me for dinner in my cabin tonight. I'd spend the rest of the day trying to better yourself, or worsen, I suppose," she shrugged. "With your views on our kind."

"Have fun," she finished, giving him a mocking salute before heading out the door.

* * *

 

Killian Jones hated Captain Swan.

He hated her arrogance. He hated her morals. He hated the way that she walked with a slight sway to her hips that gifted him with erm,  _interesting_ , thoughts.

"I hope you like pork," she called back to him as he followed a few steps behind her across the deck. Her voice jolted him out of his questionable thoughts, and he raised his eyes up from her backside to find her watching him with mirth sparkling in her eyes. "Or perhaps something else?" There was laughter in her voice as he flushed in embarrassment.

She pushed open her door and held it open, making him walk past her. Killian averted his gaze, too embarrassed to look her in the eye.

"Er, this isn't dinner," Killian frowned, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw that the room was set up as usual. Only a tray with a razor and scissors sat atop the Captain's desk. "I thought you were going to sell me, not butcher me."

"If you were acquainted with these instruments, Jones," Swan answered, the door shutting with a loud snap, "We wouldn't have this problem."

"You want to cut my hair?" Killian's mouth dropped open. Of all things she could have asked for, she asked for that. It was humiliating. It was…

Damn it to hell, he hated her.

* * *

 

With the way Jones was looking at her, Emma was pretty sure he thought she was doing this to purposely humiliate him. Thing was, she was just trying to make him presentable for the Slave Courts. If she didn't, his price would lower and that meant worse slave drivers.

And despite how much she didn't like him, she didn't want to resign him to a fate worse than death.

"Sit," Emma ordered him, and he reluctantly stepped backwards, asking hesitantly, "And if I don't?"

Emma had her dagger in her hand in a split second, swinging it hazardously but without care. "You sign your own death warrant. Sit."

And finally, he did.

Grabbing the scissors, Emma went straight for the stupid ponytail. No matter his handsome features, that had to go. It would've been over quickly if he would've stopped moving like a five year old.

"I'd stop struggling if I were you, lieutenant," Emma huffed finally before being struck by a brilliant idea. She got up and sidled around him, dropping her leg over his and settling herself in his lap. She showed him the scissors dangerously. "Now hold still."

"This isn't necessary, Captain."

"Your ponytail annoyed me," she answered shortly. "Now unless you want to be bald, stop moving."

He remained silent for a little while as she worked until he finally spoke up, his voice a little dry from remaining silent for so long. "It's not lieutenant anymore. You may as well stop calling me that."

Emma leaned back and cocked an eyebrow at him. Whatever she'd been expecting, it hadn't been for him to relinquish the little power he had left. "You're asking me to  _not_  call you by your title?"

"No point," he shrugged, pointedly averting his gaze. Emma leaned back in, and it was only then that she considered perhaps his voice wasn't dry from not speaking, and his eyes weren't looking away because he was uncomfortable…

Well, he was. Just in a more obvious way.

Emma found herself smirking as she shifting against his lap, feeling his arousal through her leather pants. With a soft chuckle, she pulled away, finally done. Jones' cheeks were tinted red in embarrassment, but he was completely still, worried that any movement might cause him further discomfort. Emma smiled with that knowledge before she was momentarily distracted.

"I should…" Emma glanced at the scruff that had grown along his face. Unconsciously, her hand began to run along his jaw, its roughness a delicious texture against her palm. Unconsciously, she found herself biting down on her lower lip as she wondered how that would feel in other places…

 _God_ s. She hadn't had such urges in years! But this man had her feeling like an aroused teenager all over again. Maybe…

Maybe he could impress her in ways she hadn't thought of before.

Leaning back appreciatively, she let her hands trail down his collar to feel the firm planes of his chest through his shirt, groaning appreciatively when she felt the lean muscle that dwelled there. His fists clenched when he heard her and Emma simply smirked, rolling her hips over his lap intentionally. A soft whimper lay in the back of his throat.

Emma leant over him, her hair brushing against his neck as she whispered seductively in his ear, "I think I know a way you could impress me, Jones."

But he was saved a response as a knock came at the door. Emma gave him a wink, enjoying his blatant surprise as she swung off him, watching as he tried to manoeuvre himself into a less compromising position.

Opening the door, she found Graham standing there holding a tray with two plates. He eyes her suspiciously through narrowed grey eyes. "Am I interrupting…"

"Nope," Emma grinned. His eyes widened in surprise at her playfulness as she took the plate from him, whispering, "But no more interruptions, okay?"

"Emma," he hissed, "What are you doing?"

"Living a little," she answered with an impish grin, "'Night."

And despite his protests, she closed the door with her foot and flicked the lock into place with her elbow.

By the time she rounded the desk, Killian had cleared up the implements on the table, and even swept away the remnants of his hair cut into the corner. As he sat back down, Emma noticed his nervousness and it gave her a certain thrill to have such power over him. She was very aware of the looseness of her shirt, and the fact that if Killian's eyes lowered just a few inches he would be able to see directly down it.

As she sat back down in her seat after settling their food upon their plates, it was to cross her legs up beneath her and pick delicately at the meat and vegetables present. She loved the meals in the days after they made port. They were actually edible.

Emma kept her eyes trained on Killian throughout the dinner. He tried not to return her gaze, but every so often, those blue eyes would meet her green and she would smirk. The air was thick with tension, and when she finally put her fork down on her plate, she noticed that he did the same, his plate empty.

With nothing else to look at, his eyes rose to find hers. Challenging him for a moment, Emma took a drink of her water and eyed him over the rim of the glass before asking, "Have you ever bedded a woman, Jones?"

The man's eyes widened before he coughed, having choked on his own breath. "What?" he wheezed.

"A woman, Jones," she repeated, as though he were an idiot. "Or are you too accustomed to your own hand?"

"I don't…I…"

Emma was already standing up and rounding the desk. "We're one day down, Jones," she said as she began unclasping her corset from the base upwards. "And if you value your freedom…"

"You'll give me my freedom…if I…" He visibly gulped, his eyes wandering over her body. They dilated with lust despite his misgivings. "If I sleep with you?"

"I doubt there'll be much sleeping," Emma continued with a smirk, sidling closer to him until she was leaning over him, her hands on either arm of his chair.

"My…my brother and I both go free?"

Emma rolled her eyes, "Yes, fine."

Killian looked at her; actually looked at her. Her eyes, not her breasts, and he nodded. Emma saw his resolution in his eyes; it wasn't a half yes. He wanted her.

"Excellent," she smiled, returning to the position of earlier and straddling him without a second thought. She ran her hands up his shirt, following their path with her eyes up towards his face. Wrapping her hands around his neck, she ordered, "Kiss me, Jones."

He didn't hesitate. Emma was almost bowled over by the force with which he closed the space and attached his lips to hers. They seared her, burned her. And…didn't he say he'd never been with a woman…Gods, where did he learn to kiss like that?!

She could already feel his arousal growing harder beneath her once more as she pushed up against him, her hands running to untuck his shirt from his breeches and push it over his head. Her lips followed along the roughness of his jaw, kissing the skin of his neck before laving her tongue over the spot and sucking hard, earning a hiss from the man beneath her.

His hands fumbled over the clasps of her corset, and she smiled almost tenderly as she helped him, casting it away before leaning down to kiss him again. Emma's tongue plundered his mouth, battling him. He fought her just as much as he did with his words. And for some reason, it turned her on.

She dragged his hands from where they were sitting tamely on her hips up to cover her breasts, encouraging him to feel her body with a soft groan. She reached between them to rub at his hardness, palming him through his breeches as he looked up at her in awe.

"I was right, wasn't I," Emma whispered, stilling her movements as she pulled her way off him. "You've never had a woman."

He looked a little sheepish even though he still burned with need, scratching behind his ear and muttering, "No."

"Come on, then," Emma continued, a little impatiently, holding out her hand. At least once they were done with this he'd be a little bit more eager next time.

_Already thinking about a next time, are we?_

Killian took her hand cautiously as she led him to her bed. Her face was unreadable as she pushed him down into a sitting position. She undid his belt deftly before pushing his breeches down, his boots with it.

"What are you doing?" he asked softly.

"Your first time should be good," she answered ignoring the slight bitterness in her voice. No. This wasn't about  _her_  first time. This was about  _now_. And it would be good. And fun. And take her mind off things for the next five days. There'd be plenty of time for ripping clothes later.

"Lay back," she said, watching him slowly move, still cautious about her sudden calmness and gentleness. Truly, Emma was anything but; her stomach churning as she watched his hard cock move with him. Within seconds, her boots were off and her shirt was over her head. She heard Killian's low groan when she removed her shirt, and smiled. A genuine smile, before pulling off her pants and underwear and climbing into the wide bunk with him.

She kissed him, hard and thorough, nipping his lower lip with her teeth as she reached between them and caught his cock in her hand. Giving it a few strokes, she watched his face contort in pleasure, and as she slid lower, it was to watch his every move. His hand found her hip as she rose up, sliding his length between her wet folds before sinking down onto him slowly.

Her hands were on his chest as she felt him stretching her. It had been a while since she'd had someone in her bed, and none had ever been Killian Jones.

"Fuck," she whispered in relief as she finally felt him sheathed entirely within her, "Jones, you're huge."

But he was simply staring up at her in awe once more, despite his need, he didn't move. Emma began to undulate her hips over him and she felt his grip on her hip tightening. When his free hand came up to grasp her breast she gave him an encouraging moan, dropping down to bite gently on his neck as he kneaded the flesh, his rough fingers working gently over the sensitive skin as he pushed gently against her.

Emma gasped when she shifted and he rubbed against that spot inside of her that made pleasure shoot through her veins. He seemed to realise something was there and became a more active participant, his hips thrusting upwards in time with hers to speed them both towards their release.

Emma's hand trailed down the hair on his chest to find where they were joined, her fingers rubbing against her clit earnestly as she sought her release. With her head thrown back as she pumped her lips faster, she didn't see that Killian had his hand over hers.

"Let me," he whispered, and Emma didn't question it, watching his dark lustful eyes as he pressed his fingers against her sensitive nub in time with their thrusts. Before she knew it, Killian was losing his rhythm and she was falling apart over him, a muffled shout of ecstasy filling the room as her body shook and she collapsed onto him. But she kept pumping her hips, riding out her orgasm and beyond as he muttered, "What are you doing, it was good, wasn't it?"

"Finish it," she whispered, her hips pushing against his harshly and unevenly for a few more seconds. She couldn't be in his debt, not even for such a simple thing a pleasure. He came with a drawn out groan, spilling himself inside of her as she sank onto him, depleted.

After a few moments she looked up at him, satisfied, patting his chest, "That was good."

"Really?" he questioned, breaking from his haze of relief as though doubting the honesty of her response.

"Consider me one-fifth impressed," Emma continued, as she sat up and stretched her arms back, pushing her hair off her face and climbing out of the bed. She reached for her shirt and threw it on, followed by her pants. When she was covered, she looked at him with a frown, "What are you doing?"

"Wait…aren't we…" He seemed confused and Emma gave a soft chuckle.

"You were good, Jones," she began, "But you're going to have to be better for me to let you stay in my bed."

"We've got the basics covered," she continued, throwing him his pants as he sat up looking mildly put out. It was a significant change from earlier today, she thought appreciatively. Perhaps there was hope for him yet. "But it's back to the brig before I come for you again tomorrow."

The minute he had his pants and boots on, Emma was already at the door, tapping her foot impatiently. "I do need to sleep tonight," she said testily, and he hurried to the door so that she could escort him back to the brig. Walking across the ship and into the darkness of the room, Emma stared at the sleeping Liam Jones in curiosity. Was that man ever awake?

"So, tomorrow night then, Swan?" Killian's voice broke her from her thoughts and she quickly unlocked the door to let him in.

"Oh, I said tomorrow," Emma answered as she closed the door on him with a teasing grin and a gleam in her emerald eyes. "I didn't say night."

And she left him there once more.

On her way back to her quarters, she ran into a large man skulking in the shadows. Emma knew she was always safe on her ship, however, she didn't like it when Graham went all protective on her.  _She_  was the captain, not him.

"You had a good night then?"

 _Oh, crap,_  she realised, _The bed's up against Graham's wall._

"Yep," Emma answered, refusing to look her oldest friend in the eye, "Goodnight, Graham."

"Emma," he pulled her back by her arm, eyes looking at her pitifully. "Please, you know what happened last time you were involved with –"

"No," Emma cut him off sharply. "This is different to  _him_. No feelings, no mess. Just like when it happened with us."

And she walked away, Graham's eyes dropping as he let out a lengthy sigh and headed back to his room while midnight settled in around them.


	4. Yet there's no sickness toil or danger

**_Twelve Years Ago_ **

_"Emma! Run!"_

_"But mom, I can't. I can't leave you here."_

_"If you stay you'll die and I won't let that happen to you," her mother yelled across the room as she barricaded a door. Emma was frantic, tears pouring down her face as Graham finally revealed himself from under her bed._

_"Graham?!" Snow exclaimed in shocked surprise at finding the Huntsman's son climbing out from under the bed._

_"There's a passage out under the bed, your majesty, built many years ago."_

_Snow didn't hesitate, "Take my daughter and go."_

_"No, mom."_

_"Keep her safe," Snow continued, her eyes searching Graham's earnestly and he nodded stoically, taking Emma's hand and pulling her along. And when she struggled, he held her against him, tugging her underneath the bed and down the secret staircase that led out of the castle. Emma cried and cursed Graham's name the entire way._

_Until she sank, depleted, a mile away from home, in tears at the base of an oak tree where her protector stood guard throughout the night._

* * *

Killian Jones awoke to the sound of his brother chowing down on some bread. He shook his discomfort away, clearing his breathing along with the thoughts of a blonde captain left remnant in his sleepy brain. He let his thoughts drift back to the moment their ship hit that reef and began to sink. That frightened his morning arousal away quick enough before searching out his brother on the other side of the cell.

"He awakens," Liam grinned at his brother, ever the optimist. Then again, Killian hadn't told him they were headed to Denior yet. That would make him quite the morose companion.

"Like you can talk," Killian scoffed, grabbing a square of bread off the metal plate. "This is the first time I've seen you awake in twenty-four hours."

"Well, it's either sleep or consider our miserable demise," Liam retorted, "Just because the Captain's taken a fancy to you –"

"She has not!" Killian answered, glad it was dark so his brother couldn't see the flush upon his cheeks.

Liam rolled his eyes, "That's because you can't see the signs, brother. A Jones you may be, but you are very unlearned in the ways of women."

"As a Captain of the King's Navy," Killian pointed out, "You should be too."

"I was a sailor once, Killian," Liam grinned, "as were you. Just because  _I_ decided to spend my time more wisely..."

"Stop there," Killian said. "I do not need to learn of your exploits."

"Why?" Liam chuckled. "It might get you on the Captain's good side. She has to have one somewhere underneath all that scowling and leather."

_Oh yes, she was very soft. Her skin supple and creamy as he ran his fingers over her and she rode him into oblivion…_

"Killian?"

"Hmm?" he looked up at his brother, eyes glazed over. Liam's brow furrowed in suspicion.

"What were you doing last night?"

"I was…er, having dinner with the captain," he answered nervously, his hand scratching the back of his head. Liam eyed him carefully, a smile toying at his lips.

"Aha."

"What's wrong with you!" Killian groaned in frustration. "She's a pirate!"

"And you're a man who she quite plainly, likes," Liam continued with a smirk, "Was dessert nice?"

"You're terrible," Killian said, baring his blue eyes at him. There was a moment's silence before he answered stubbornly, "Yes."

"Ooh, little Killykins had his first woman," Liam reached to rub at his hair, and in the confined space, Killian didn't manage to elude him. He dealt with his older brother's patronising until light flooded the room as the door opened.

"Jones?"

"Yes?" He recognised the abrupt voice of Graham, the captain's jealous first mate. For some reason, he felt a surge of victory in knowing that Swan had chosen him over her crewmate.

"The Captain wants you in her chambers at noon."

"A little afternoon delight, eh?" Liam whispered in his ear.

"It's almost noon," Graham continued.

"Left it to the last minute, mate?" Killian tested the waters as the man came down to unlock his cage. Graham shook the cage threateningly, his voice hissing through the bars.

"You may think you hold some special place in her heart, Jones," he stated. "But she's cold. She won't feel for you."

When Graham insulted her, it struck a primal desire within Killian to protect his woman even though he knew that Captain Swan belonged to no man. She was much more than that. Could he…did he admire that about her…

_No, she was a pirate._

Still…

"She was plenty warm when I held a special place inside of her last night."

Graham's knuckles went white as he clasped the metal bars and stiffly unlocked the door despite obviously wishing he could leave Killian there to rot.

"Get us out of this mess, brother," Liam added as he left, an earnest desperation in his eyes.

No pressure.

The minute the door shut behind him in the Captain's cabin, Graham slamming it to express his annoyance, Emma spoke up.

"Bathe," she ordered, her back turned to him as she bent over her globe, "you smell."

Killian didn't even bother sniffing himself, he knew he did. There was a bath filled with water sitting in the middle of the room and he thought she might give him some privacy, but apparently, her staring in the opposite direction was as much privacy as he was going to get.

He pulled his shirt over his head and stripped off the rest of his clothes quickly, slipping into the bath, surprised to find that the water was actually warm. It was a luxury that he wasn't used to. Being in the navy, baths were simply for being clean. Warmth wasn't necessary and so it was foregone.

He must have let out a sigh of relief because the next moment Swan spun around with a smirk on her face, "Enjoying yourself, Jones?"

He was. Immensely. The warm water was soothing to his sore muscles from sleeping in the brig and he could feel the dirt washing away from him. Cupping the water in his hands, he drenched his face and hair before blinking away the water and looking for the Captain who had disappeared from his view.

"Any soap, Captain?"

Her voice replied from above his head.

"Say please, Jones," she said teasingly, as he threw his head back to find her bending over him with a smirk and a bar of soap.

"Please, Captain," he answered without thought and she handed him the soap, eventually coming around to the side of the bath. Goosebumps erupted over his arms as she watched him run the soap over his skin. Her finger stirred the water absently as she wordlessly gazed at him. It was incredibly disconcerting and arousing, especially when she ventured her hands towards his chest and began to trace patterns across his skin. He shivered in pleasure, his cock hardening beneath the water, even as she whispered at his side, "I want to watch you."

"What?"

"I said you had to up your game," Swan continued, her eyes glinting. "When you're finished with your bath; clean. I want you to get yourself off and get yourself dirty again."

"Is that how you like me?" he was swallowing his pride as he watched her stand up. "Dirty?"

"I doubt you're capable of many of the dirty things I have in mind, Jones," the Captain answered, as she sauntered away. "But this will do, for now."

It was only a few more minutes before Killian was done cleaning the soap from his body. Swan hadn't given him a towel, so he let himself drip dry as he stood before getting out of the bucket and turning towards her. She was waiting expectantly in her seat, her eyes perusing his wet and unkempt hair, dripping down his chest to his hard cock, jutting towards her.

A dark smile quirked at the corner of her lips as she patted the desk in front of her, "Over here, Jones."

He made his way towards her as confidently as he could.

"You're still nervous," Swan commented a sparkle of mirth in her cold eyes. He almost started at the realisation. Perhaps, there was something of a woman there behind the pirate. "It's adorable."

As he leant back against the desk, Swan's green eyes darkened lustfully, taking in his physique appreciatively. As he climbed into a sitting position, he could swear he heard her audibly whimper and it gave him a surge of actual confidence.

She awaited him expectantly, and after a few seconds, he wrapped his hand around himself and began to stroke gently. Her mouth dropped open slightly and it spurred him on, swiping away the beading liquid with his finger before fisting his palm around himself.

The Captain's legs were clenched tightly together, and despite her easiness before, he noticed that her body was wound tighter than coiled rope. Her eyes were fixated on his movements, her tongue darting out every so often to wet her dry lips. After a few minutes of him imagining her tightness around him, he finally whispered, "Are you wet?"

The captain's eyes darted up to his in shock before she composed herself rather quickly. Still, Killian felt a small sense of victory within his mind.

"Is that what you're thinking about?" she asked, pushing herself off her chair to stalk towards him languidly. She was closing in on him quickly, her hands on his bare thighs as her breath swept over his lips. "Are you thinking about fucking me, Jones? Or do you want me to fuck you. Fuck you until you don't know your own name, until you're screaming mine over and over –"

He was kissing her again. He didn't want to hear words, he just wanted to feel her warm body against his. And as her hand wrapped around his, and she took over his ministrations on his length, he groaned into her mouth.

Swan leaned back, a playful hint in her eyes as she lowered her head to kiss his neck, his shoulder, his chest, his stomach…

Before he knew it, she was on her knees, her tongue flicking out over his tip as she stared up at him. Killian's mouth dropped open. Was she really going to…

Coherent thought left his brain as her mouth wrapped around his cock and she began to bob her head, taking him into her mouth and working him with her hand at the same time. He unconsciously threaded his hand through her hair, not sure if it was okay because, gods, with her, it was impossible to know. But she didn't stop. And he was speeding towards ecstasy quickly.

He came with a hoarse yell, his cock hitting the back of the Captain's throat as his seed spilled from him. He felt her swallowing, her tongue licking him clean before she pulled away and stood up with a satisfied look in her green eyes.

"That was different," Killian breathed finally, his eyes widening as she turned away. Of all the things he expected her to do, he hadn't expected that.

"Get dressed, Jones."

He frowned in confusion, "You don't want…"

"Get dressed," she repeated, spinning around and letting a cold smirk flitter across her face, "I've had my fill for now."

"O…kay?" He didn't question her aloud, but his brain was wondering why she'd let that go so easily. She'd got him off but she didn't expect anything in return? It went against the whole, 'impress me' thing, she had going on.

"You can stay here," she said once he had his pants on, "I'll be on deck for the rest of the day. I've locked the windows and I'll lock the door. I'll see you at dinner."

And with those words, Captain Swan disappeared.

* * *

 

Emma hadn't expected herself to do that. A Captain went down on her knees for no man.

And yet the minute she'd seen him getting himself off, she knew she wanted to taste him, to bring him to completion; to hold that power over him. And the completely wrecked look on his face when he had come was all that lasted her through the afternoon.

"Captain!"

Emma groaned as she heard Graham calling her. She stood at the helm, steering the ship three notches to port as her first mate ascended the stairs. His face was clear of all emotion, but by the sharp and clipped edge to his words as he ordered about the crew, he was pissed off. Majorly.

"Graham," she said with a forced smile. "How are you?"

"Why is Jones not in the brig?"

"I decided it best he remain in my chambers, lest him and his brother come up with an escape plan." Yes it was a terrible quarter truth but he didn't have to know that.

"That's not the whole truth," Graham answered, continuing to step towards her.

"Careful, Graham," Emma warned, sharply. "Feelings are our enemy. Take the helm, I'm going to go teach Locksley how to properly tie knots."

And before Graham knew it, the wheel was in his hands and Emma was scampering down the stairs. But she still heard him as he muttered bitterly, "It may be  _your_  enemy, Emma, but that sure as hell isn't true for the rest of us."


	5. In that bright world to which I go

**_10 Years Ago_ **

_The streets of the small port town were a hive of activity. Nobody noticed the slight young boy with short golden hair weaving through people's jackets and reaching into their bags withdrawing coins and jewels enough to last him for the week. At least, he tried until a hand caught his wrist and he was staring up at his protector and sighing._

_"How much did you steal?" he asked, berating him._

_"Enough." His voice was high, and upon further perusal, the beginnings of a womanly figure could be seen beneath boyish clothes. Despite her dirty face, she had the complexion of a noble woman._

_"Emma," the older boy groaned. "Stealing isn't the way."_

_"I'm not eating squirrel for another night this week, " Emma retorted angrily, wrenching her arm from Graham's grip with a strength she had learnt over the past two years. "Now do you want to accompany me to the tavern, or am I going myself?"_

_And knowing there was no arguing with her, Graham groaned and followed her as he had through various towns and disguises in the past two years._

_In all that time, they'd never spotted a palace guard. Not one of theirs, nor one of Regina's._

_But Emma never said anything about going home._

_Entering the establishment of The Dancing Swan, Emma went for the nearest table, grinning at Graham to go and order their food. He was only slightly older, being halfway through his fourteenth year whilst she was still thirteen, but he had the height of any man around them, and Emma herself, being tall, could easily pass for a young apprentice._

_Unfortunately, on his way to the counter, he was intercepted by a rowdy pirate captain, trying to find his first mate. He gave Graham a once over, didn't ask his name, merely asking, "You, boy, can ye fight?"_

_Graham had never encountered a man like this before. One look at his weaponry and silver jewellery and it was clear he was a pirate._

_"You can fight, boy?"_

_"Aye," Graham reluctantly admitted, his hand automatically going to the battered sword at his hip. It wasn't much, one of the few things he'd actually approved of Emma stealing, but it did the job. And from his training with his father, he knew enough to protect them both._

_"Aye, he has good reflexes," the Captain said to no one in particular, seeing his hand upon his sword. "Would ye be interested in some coin, boy? A job upon the sea."_

_He was offering him piracy on a silver platter. Graham was about to decline when a figure jumped in front of him and stated, "When do we start?"_

_"What's this?" The Captain's eyes widened. "Runt of the family, aye?"_

_Emma reached his shoulder. That was tall for a thirteen year old!_

_"My brother," Graham pointed out._

_"If you take him, you take me too," Emma interjected._

_"What's your name, lad?"_

_"Em…erson. Emerson…Swan, sir," Emma found herself saying as she looked at the painted bird upon the door of the tavern._

_"Well then, Swan, I don't want stragglers aboard my ship. You don't pull your weight, you meet the depths," the man said, warningly, his blue eyes flashing. "Ship leaves at noon, boys. If you aren't on her, she sails without you."_

_"Wait sir," Emma called after him, "Who do we ask for down at the docks?"_

_"Roberts," he answered. "Ask for Captain Roberts and the Revenge."_

* * *

 

When Emma returned to her cabin as the sun was setting, leaving the ship in August's hands and the rest of the men in the galley, Killian Jones was perched on her desk, head in his hands as he stared intently at the book open before him.

"What are you reading?" Emma inquired as she closed the door, swaying over to him as she removed her dark leather jacket and hung it on a hook. "It really can't be that interesting."

He looked up, eyes a little red from reading in the dull candlelight, but Emma saw the tears forming and rolled her eyes. "Good gods, don't tell me it's a tragedy."

But before he could close it, she'd rounded the table and lifted it from his desk.

"The Love of Romeo and Juliet," Emma read off the cover, eyeing him in confusion. "A love story? Out of every book I have, you picked this piece of shit?"

"It is not!" Jones answered, horrified. "It's a work of art, it's a –"

"They die, Jones," Emma answered, pulling the book away and placing it in her desk drawer before locking it with the keys on her belt. "It's a tragic story. Like all love stories."

"Have you ever been in love, Swan?" he answered in anger. "What would you know?"

"You're right," she answered with a snarl. "Maybe I don't know. But I'd prefer to not know than be the idealistic fool sitting across from me."

"You lie," Jones hissed, his voice cracking. "You've been in love. I can see it in your eyes."

Emma shuddered at the honesty in his proclamation. As though he knew, beyond doubt, that once upon a time, she had loved. And lost.

"Then trust me when I say love brings only pain," Emma ordered him, her eyes begging no question.

"And anyone who says otherwise is selling something?" Jones rolled his eyes. He must have heard the saying before. Emma let her thoughts drift back to where she heard it before answering him.

"Precisely," Emma nodded, glad he got the point. She rose from her threatening position to the cupboard where she stored her alcohol. She wasn't one of those pirates who kept a flask on her person at all times, preferring to savour her drinks in the comfort of her cabin.

Once more, she offered it to him. Once more, he declined.

"Come on, Jones," Emma answered his negation, quirking an eyebrow, "You said before, you were no longer a lieutenant. Surely you can let your 'good form' slip a little."

Or a lot.

Emma found herself wondering what he'd be like with his inhibitions down. She wondered if he'd be a fearless lover, taking her with abandon. Whether he'd let his tongue loose with obscenities that she knew would make her fall apart coming from his lips.

He seemed to be considering carefully before saying, "I prefer to remember when I bed you, Swan."

"That's a pretty good answer," Emma nodded appreciatively, before grabbing another glass and pouring an inch in the bottom of it. "Try it." She placed it in front of him and leant against the desk next to him, hip level with his eyes. And yet he still glanced curiously from her face to the glass.

"What are you going to achieve by this?"

"Nothing," Emma shrugged. "It's just a really good drink. And a sip won't get you drunk."

Killian eyed it carefully for a few more moments before reaching for the crystalline glass and taking a short sip of the amber liquid. Emma knew the familiar burn of the liquid and he didn't seem to mind it, until his face blanched.

"It's an acquired taste," she grinned, before putting her own half-drunk glass down. "Dinner?"

"You're asking?" Jones looked up at her curiously and Emma realised what she'd just said. "I thought you didn't care for such pleasantries."

"I don't," Emma retorted quickly, "I thought you might."

_Shit. Did you just admit that you **care**  about what he thinks of you?_

"Okay," his brow furrowed. "I suppose so."

"Besides," Emma quickly covered up her earlier mistake with crudeness, "The sooner we eat, the sooner we can fuck."

And she left Jones alone as she went to go and get the food, the man almost nursing the lash of a whip at the rate she was changing her moods. He'd have to learn to live with it. He was getting him and his brother out of this mess safely.

And if pleasure was all it took, pleasure was what Captain Swan would get.

* * *

Emma took those moments, when she went to go and get their dinner, to calm her rapidly beating heart. It was impossible. He'd known her, what, two days? And all of a sudden, he was reading her like she was that bloody romance novel.

She took two plates that Cookie had laid out, and stared down her crew until they became fixed on their plates and didn't question her with their gazes. Graham, however, had his eyes blazing against the back of her head, and ignoring his blatant disapproval, she walked straight out of the galley and headed back over to her cabin.

Killian had managed to find her cutlery and a few glasses for the both of them before she got back. She eyed the setup appreciatively. Apparently Jones wasn't too scared to search her room.

That made her hesitate as she silently put the plates down on the table. She questioned herself. Did she have anything to hide?

 _No,_  she thought,  _it was all locked away in that draw in her desk. Without the key, there was no getting inside there._

"Hungry?" she asked as she sat down and pulled her seat up to the table. Instinctively, the movement leant her towards grabbing her napkin and shaking it out over her lap at the same time as Killian did. He looked over at her in surprise but she pretended not to notice, proceeding to pour their drinks, water for him and rum for her, with only a minor embarrassed flush upon her face.

"How old is Locksley?" Jones enquired as they dug into their food. Emma's eyes widened. It seemed a strange question to be asking, but…

"He's fifteen," Emma answered, "Why?"

"It's just…" Jones looked down, his food suddenly really interesting. "He seems so young."

Emma found herself on the defensive. Not only for Locksley, but for herself. Because the pirate's life didn't have an age. You stumbled into it when you needed it and it didn't let you go; a firm grasp of tendrils holding you captive, a willing captive, but captive nonetheless.

"Quite passionate, Swan," Jones said, his blue eyes sparkling. Emma looked up in horror, not realising that she'd spoken aloud.

"That's Locksley," she said quickly, trying to shrug it off.

"Sure," Jones answered in disbelief. They returned to their meal in silence. And when he was done, he finished off his water and stood up, his chair scraping along the wooden floor as he ventured across the room. Emma watched him move, slipping his boots off as he sat on the bed, turning to watch her.

Emma couldn't eat. Her food was almost untouched, and she knew it was because, for some reason, he was putting her on edge. His presence in her cabin, making it feel warm and comfortable. Dinners…domesticity…

She scraped her own chair along the floor as she crossed to the rug, kicking her shoes off to land with his. She was on him in seconds, her lips full and unyielding as she collided with him. Her legs were on the bed, hands pushing Killian back onto the mattress. He was still looking at her doe-eyed; and it annoyed her.

"Tonight," Emma hissed, "No gentleness." And as she said the words, she was tugging at the centre of his shirt and pulling. The material resisted at first, but soon she had torn straight through the white cloth, separating the material and carelessly pushing it from his shoulders as she latched her lips onto his shoulder.

"You're sure?"

"No questions," Emma answered, looking up at him with a slow sensual smile creeping onto her face. "Surely you've had dark desires, Jones? Even good form can't protect you from your dreams."

The man beneath her visibly gulped. "Tonight, we fuck, Jones," she grinned, leaning down to whisper against his ear, breath warm upon the skin. He shivered, but happily, she felt his hands reaching for her corset.

Leaning back, his hands worked upwards and finally divested her of the garment. Killian's rough hands went quickly to worm between her pants and shirt, slipping his warm fingers against her hip and up her stomach.

"Let go, Jones," she moaned, almost pleading with him. "Tear it off."

He seemed hesitant for a moment before seeing the scorching fire in her eyes and resolved himself. He took the black material in his hands and ripped it straight up the middle. Emma smiled in satisfaction as it fell from her shoulders. Killian's hands groped up her body, on hand switching between her ass and hip and the other palming her bare breasts, brushing over her nipples until they each were hard and she was so wanting that her hands went directly for his pants.

"I take it you're going to get me more clothes?" Killian enquired, his voice surprisingly even as Emma brushed intentionally over the hard bulge in his breeches as she pulled them off him.

"I quite like the idea of you, sitting in my cabin, naked and ready for me to take you," Emma whispered in his ear as her lips connected with his jaw. "But yes, I will get you clothes."

He groaned loudly as she gripped him in her hand, pleased with his response. His hands moved to the laces of her pants and he quickly untied them. But Emma had to step away in order to peel the tight leather from her legs and she saw Killian sitting upright once more, his eyes watching her the entire time. When she came back, she didn't sit upon him as he had expected. Instead, she sat down next to him and turned his head towards her so that she could kiss him. Her hand ran over his chest lightly until it was hooked around his neck and she was dragging him down to the bed with her.

As he grew accustomed to the new position, Emma found herself moaning in relief. His lips traced patterns down her neck, teeth brushing over her pulse point and down towards her breasts. He kissed the soft mounds delicately and Emma found herself bucking into him in frustration.

"I want you to  _fuck_ me," Emma said angrily, sensing something else behind his delicate ministrations.

He frowned, but he didn't protest, taking the hands on her hips and moving one to the warmth between her legs.

"No," she said quickly, "I'm ready. Just fuck me."

And she could see that he wasn't sure. But he had to learn somehow. No matter where he was, he would learn how to fuck someday. She just happened to be the one to teach him.

He pushed himself into her an inch at a time until she was leaning up into him, wordlessly begging for more. Killian sheathed himself entirely inside of her and she let out a breathless moan of relief. He started to move without any further prompting. And when she looked up at him, she saw him watching her with a fierceness in his eyes; almost a determination.

Like he was trying to prove himself.

"Harder," she whispered like an order, and he acquiesced without thought, his movements deliciously equal as he thrust against her, soft grunts of effort spilling from his lips.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, her ankles crossing behind his back as she changed the angle of her hips. Almost instantly, she felt him hitting that spot deep within her that had her whimpering in ecstasy. Emma wrapped her arms around his neck as they stared each other down, both trying to outlast the other, yet still find their own completion.

And in the end, it was simultaneous. He bit down on the skin where he'd been kissing her and she cried out an incoherent sound of pleasure, her walls tightening around him and sending him into a haze as he came inside of her. He held himself up by his arms for all of a minute before withdrawing from her and collapsing beside her.

"Better?" he asked finally, and Emma was still trying to recover. Aftershocks buzzed through her every few moments.

"Yeah," she finally breathed.

He waited a few moments before continuing, "Back to the brig?"

Emma knew she couldn't. She did say he'd done better, and to be honest she wasn't sure she could move to take him back there right now.

"Blow out the candles and then back here," she said finally. The bed lifted as his body left the mattress, but a second later, the room was plunged into darkness and he was padding barefoot back to the bed. He slipped underneath the covers where she was already cosied up, but Emma slid closer to the wall as soon as he was in the bed. It was big enough that they didn't have to touch.

"No cuddling," Emma warned as she turned to face the wall, probably stealing most of the quilt when she did.

"As you wish," Killian answered softly behind her.

And reminded of stories of a time long past, Emma smiled.


	6. I'm going there to see my father

**8 Years Ago**

_Emma was drinking side by side with Graham as they sat in the port tavern of Senzen. She laughed along with the crass jokes of the pirates, her friends, and bought them rounds of drinks with her own well earned – or plundered – gold. Drinks developed into cards, and many men went off for more enjoyable activities upstairs._

_Somehow it got around that Graham had never been with a woman, and the rest of the crew wanted to rectify that rather quickly. They didn't ask Emma – or Emerson as she was to them – but Graham, being sixteen and very good looking, they found it incredulous. Despite his protests, and many calls asking if he was a queer because of them, the crew chipped in and soon, there was a young and curvaceous blonde sitting in his lap._

_He looked uncomfortable, and increasingly red-faced, but the woman didn't seem concerned, eventually taking his hand and leading him off up the stairs. He cast a fearful and slightly apologetic look at Emma who merely shrugged it off. He was old enough; let him have some fun._

_She certainly had fun, divesting many a man of their coin as she won round after round of cards. And it wasn't just her own crew she was beating, it was men from everywhere. Pirates and townsfolk alike._

_Finally, a mostly sober man came and placed his wager down on the table. He took the spare seat and Emma looked up. His brown eyes were amused as he reached for the cards._

_"I hear you're undefeated," he began in a voice that almost laughed at her. It was genuine though. He wasn't belittling her because of her age, he was simply laughing at the incredulity. After all, he didn't look that much older than her._

_"You hear correctly," Emma answered as he dealt. "And whose money am I depriving this round?"_

_"I sail with the Wayfaring Stranger."_

_"Captain Gold, then," Emma said without a second thought, noticing the high calibre of clothing he wore. That she was about to beat a Captain at cards didn't even faze her slightly alcohol-addled brain. She lost the first round, as usual, to lull him into a false sense of security. But she did get annoyed when she felt something fly by her foot._

_"Don't think I didn't notice that each coin you're placing on the table is from the stash by my foot," Emma added to their playful banter._

_"I wouldn't dare," he mocked horror. "What do you take me for, my lady, a pirate?"_

_That he had just noticed she was a girl didn't even compute in her mind. Nor had the fact that their spectators had retreated for the night, leaving Captain Gold and herself to finish the game in relative peace._

_"So, do I get a name with your scathing remarks?"_

_"Swan," she answered simply._

_"No first name to go with that?" He seemed genuinely interested and as she placed her cards out triumphantly she smiled, continuing._

_"First names aren't necessary are they, Captain?"_

_"Oh?" He placed out his cards and Emma's mouth fell open in shock. It was near impossible to get that combination! How did he…_

_But even after checking the deck, she realised that he hadn't cheated. He'd bested her. And that in itself was an admirable feat._

_"As part of the rules of the game," he continued with a satisfied smirk, "I believe you owe me a favour for being in higher station than you, Swan."_

_"You want a name?"_

_"I want you to join my crew."_

_"I have a crew thanks," Emma answered stonily._

_"Ah yes, the Revenge. But don't you long for a little more freedom? You wouldn't have to wear this…disguise."_

_It was only then that Emma realised he knew. And if he knew, she was backed into a corner. The minute it got out on board that she was a woman, gods knew what the crew would do…_

_Who knew what this man would do?_

_"Emma," she finally whispered almost inaudibly, her eyes darting around to check that no one else had heard them. "I'm Emma."_

_"Well then, Emma," the Captain answered, holding out his hand. She took it quickly and he bent his head, lowering his lips against her knuckles with a charming grin. "I'm Neal. Welcome to the crew of the Wayfaring Stranger."_

* * *

 

Emma awoke to the sound of soft snoring near her head. The felt a warm presence and it took her a moment to realise that her dream was just that; a dream. The person behind her wasn't Neal. It was Killian Jones.

_Who apparently couldn't keep his hands to himself._

It was still dark outside and his hand was rubbing circles on her hip. It wasn't holding her, per se, but it was still far more intimate than she was willing to say she wanted.

With careful movements, she removed his hand and placed it on the mattress behind her, trying not to notice how he softly groaned in disappointment before sidling closer to her.

She let out a huff of annoyance as she felt his chest hair brushing up against her back. It was too early and she just wanted to go back to sleep. She did not want the urges that his body – his naked body, mind you – up against hers brought to her core. Shifting uncomfortably, she tried to edge away from him. But finally, after he tried once more to touch her, she said aloud, intending to wake him, "If you don't get off me, Jones, you're going back to the brig."

That didn't seem to register as he rose from the haze of sleep, but when he finally realised where he was, he shuffled backwards, perhaps a little too quickly and a little too far, because the next second he landed with a dull thud on the floor of the captain's cabin.

"Sorry!" Emma called, instinctively. He merely groaned, pulling the rest of the blankets onto the floor with him.

"Insubordination!" Emma exclaimed playfully, crawling over to where he was bundled underneath the mound of material. He poked his head out innocently and adorably and a little curiously before a hesitant smile slipped onto his face, lighting up his blue eyes in the darkness of the morning.

Emma didn't know where her happiness came from, but she felt good, so she decided to run with it leaning over the edge of the bed, she booped him on the nose and his eyes widened as she giggled at his confusion. When she realised that she was just sitting there with her arms folded beneath her chin, she smiled and sighed, "You'd better come back up here before I freeze to death."

Killian didn't hesitate to bring the blankets back up and throw them over her. But like she'd requested, he didn't move to cuddle her, and she didn't ask him to either. Eventually, she fell back into a few hours sleep.

She didn't realise that his eyes watched her long after hers were closed.

* * *

 

Killian Jones was confused.

He was tired too, but that didn't stop him from being completely bewildered by the woman sleeping pleasantly beside him. Yesterday it had seemed like she wanted nothing to do with him, her remarks and hatred spilling from her lips. But now she laid beside him in her bed peacefully.

They weren't close, but still.

There was something to be said for doing what they'd done. And he knew that she was trying to keep her distance by leaving the act as just that; an act. But it felt like something more. Like each time she came apart with him inside her, she was that much closer to revealing something about herself. And she was scared of that. It was like she'd been hurt too badly. Like she didn't want to feel…

Eventually, Killian fell into an uneasy sleep, tossing around on the bed until the Captain woke up and rolled over into him. The sun had barely risen, but it seemed like, with Killian Jones sharing her bed, she wasn't going to get very much sleep. Killian felt her hands shaking his shoulders as he came to.

"You're muttering and it's keeping me awake. Get out of the bed."

He yawned and acquiesced, watching as she sat up, unashamedly bare, and stretched her arms. Her bones cracked satisfyingly as she turned, a moan of relief leaving her mouth as she moved to follow him. He didn't particularly have anywhere to go, and Killian watched as the thoughts spun around her head and a slow smirk spread across her lips.

He felt his cock twitching to life. What was he supposed to do?! There was a naked woman standing not a metre from him, gazing at him as though he wanted to eat him in a definitely non-platonic manner.

"A little excited there, Jones?" she grinned, her green eyes trailing from his growing arousal to his face.

"I have a beautiful woman standing in front of me," he answered honestly, and he didn't miss the blush that she tried to hide as she turned away. He watched her bend over, her smooth back leading down to her smooth ass as she rummaged in the cupboard for some clothes. Eventually, she was walking over to him and handing the clothes over to him. She seemed to hesitate momentarily, questioning herself as she glanced at his half-hard member and cocked her head. Finally, she looked back up at him and promised, "Later."

It seemed that would have to do. Gods, when she was out of the room, he'd have to get rid of it. Although, she had said that she liked to watch…

And she wasn't exactly convincing when she promised him 'later'…

Dropping the clothes on her desk, he reached for her turning body in a smooth movement. His arms wrapped around her stomach and pulled her back flush to his chest.

"What are you doing?" She almost sounded angry. But she also sounded breathless…and wanton…

He rutted himself against her, slipping between the cleft of her ass as he sought friction. He felt her sharp intake of breath as she moved instinctively back against him.

"I don't think I can wait until later, _Captain_ ," Killian whispered in her ear as his free hand came up to grasp her breast, twirling the flesh before pinching her hardening nipple and hearing her gasp against him.

"Are you disobeying orders?" she hissed as he sucked on her neck, his tongue laving over a single spot, fingers trailing down her side and over her hip. He body shivered against him as he lightly pressed a finger to where her body truly betrayed her.

"I don't think I am," he groaned throatily as he felt her wetness. "You can't deny that you need me." Gods, he was hard as a rock. He needed to be inside of her.

"I think I can," Swan challenged, reaching behind her to grasp him in her hand. With a growl, he spun her around, and lifted her onto the desk without any question, asides form her short yelp of surprise and shock. Yes. He needed her, and if she was so used to taking him, maybe it was time that he took her.

His fingers delved into her wetness, his thumb rubbing against her nub of pleasure as he pushed a finger inside her tight channel. She let out a groan as her head fell back. Her hips pushed against his fingers as he latched his mouth onto her breast, licking and sucking until she was whispered, "I'm not adverse to your hand, Jones, but at this rate, I'm not going to come until you're in Denior."

He needed to stop responding to her challenges, but he couldn't help it, pushing a second finger into her quickly followed by a third. She let out a yelp of surprise, but she didn't tell him to stop, and so he pushed his fingers in and out of her quickly until she grabbed his hand forcefully, pushing it aside and tugged his hips forward. Her delicate hand wrapped around him and positioned him at her entrance before pushing his hips forward and throwing her head back with a loud exhale. She thrust against him quickly, trying to reach her orgasm. And with exactly how ready, Killian was, he knew he wouldn't last long. He put one hand down on her desk as leverage when he pushed into her, the other gripping her hip tightly. And when they both came, her release triggering his, it was to slump into each other, Swan's forehead resting on his shoulder as she breathed heavily.

Finally, she leant back and he slipped from her. The Captain's face was hard as she raised her hand, and before he knew it, his face was burning with a red mark of pain upon his cheek. She'd slapped him!

"I said  _later_ ," she hissed, eyes livid as she moved away from him to get dressed and leave without another word.

And as Killian watched her go, it was in complete bewilderment. She'd said she wanted pleasure right?

_But she also wanted control._

For the first time, he found himself doubting whether she would truly let him go. Or whether the harsh Captain Swan would send him to stand in the slave courts. A price that he didn't want him or his brother to pay.

He'd have to apologise...


	7. I'm going there no more to roam

**_6 Years Ago_ **

_Emma Swan loved the freedom of the Wayfaring Stranger. It had been two years that she'd been travelling, free of having to hide who she was from the crew. Neal was kind. Sure, she'd heard the stories of all ruthless pirates, but sometimes Emma thought that that was all they were; stories. After all, Captain Roberts hadn't been so bad. And Neal kept anything bad from happening to her._

_He was far from bad in her eyes._

_And sometimes, when she was going about her work, helping navigate by charting new maps, or fixing sails with the crew, she'd feel a twinge of guilt over leaving Graham behind. But only for the barest moment…_

_Because then Neal's hand would come to rest on her shoulder and he'd squeeze it gently and give her a dashing smile that made her knees go weak. And she'd remove herself and he'd take her down into the hold and kiss her senseless until she was out of breath and out of space and wanted him so much it hurt. It wasn't long before she came to regard those feelings as love._

_And when he smiled at her, she could imagine that maybe she was his whole world, and she'd smile back._

_It was a fairytale existence that she'd dreamed about as a child. Running away to where no one knew her; where no one could find her. She loved her life; seventeen and sailing over the seas…_

_Every night he met her on the forecastle. She would stare out at the darkness until his arms came to wrap around her waist. But one night, he frowned as he lowered his chin onto her shoulder._

_"Emma, you're shivering," he whispered as she stared off into the distance, wondering why she felt as though something was missing. Only she couldn't figure out why…_

_"Better head back inside," she answered, with a soft smile, spinning around in his arms to place a soft and chaste kiss on his lips. Only it didn't exactly stay soft and chaste. His tongue plundered her mouth, his hands pulling her close against him as she tasted him, pulling back only to nip playfully at his bottom lip._

_"So, er," she whispered, playing with the collar of his shirt. "I suppose the Captain's cabin is pretty warm?"_

_He didn't hesitate, but his hand did clasp tighter on her hip. Looking up, Emma saw the dark lust in his eyes._

_"If you're sure?" He was holding himself back, and Emma liked that. He'd been holding himself back for a long time._

_"I love you, Neal."_

_"I love you too, Emma Swan," he breathed, trailing kisses down her neck, his hands resting warmly upon her hips._

_And even years later, Emma knew he wasn't lying._

* * *

 

Emma's sword was out and digging sharply into August's throat.

"If I hear anything that vulgar and disgusting out of your mouth again, Booth," Emma hissed, shaking in anger, "You will lose your tongue. And I'm sure not many ladies will want you, er what was it again?"

Emma feigned wanting to hear the words he'd so disgustingly taunted earlier but his eyes flashed in fear and she nodded in appreciation, sheathing her sword, "Good."

"Gents," she called to the crew who were all watching the scene unfold, "If you ever discuss your Captain in this way again, she will be happy to feed you to the leviathan down below? Savvy?"

"Aye Captain," the crew murmured.

"Back to work!" she answered, heading up to the helm where Graham stood watching her appreciatively.

"Storm's on the horizon," he said with a soft smile. Emma was glad he was happy. He'd been somewhat miserable over the last few days and she refused to acknowledge that it had anything to do with the young lieutenant she was keeping locked in her cabin.

Emma followed his eyes to the row of dark clouds sailing through the sky towards them, "We can't outrun that," she murmured with a frown, trying to think up a solution. It was unusual to have such storms when they were reasonably close to the coast, especially at this time of year.

"Men," Emma called across the deck, "Furl the sails and secure the lines. Master Crowley, tell Cookie that he needs to secure the food stores and head down to wake the idiots still sleeping. It's noon and they're lucky I'm not making them walk the plank. Take them down and secure the caskets in the hold. The last thing we need is wet powder on top of the storm."

"What do you think?" She asked finally, her brow furrowed as she turned to Graham. "It doesn't look too bad; we might be able to get away with some water damage, but that's about it."

"Won't know until it gets here," Graham shrugged, but she could see in his eyes that he was worried.

Emma on the other hand wasn't.

"We've faced storms before," she muttered comfortingly. "We'll be fine."

* * *

 

"Captain!"

Emma was met by a frantic Killian Jones when she walked into the room, soaking wet. She almost jumped when she caught sight of him. It seemed terrible, but in the midst of everything going on outside, she'd almost completely forgotten he was there.

She was drenched in water. Thankfully, for now, it was just rain. But they were heading into greater swells, water pitching this way and that, and she knew that Graham was the best person to have at the wheel at this point.

"Shit," she breathed in surprise, clutching her heart, before hurrying past him.

"I know you don't want me out, but I can help," she heard Killian say from across the room as she rummaged around for the spare rope in her cupboard.

"No," she answered shortly and distractedly, "I can't be worried about you as well."

"I can take care of myself," he interrupted before she rounded on him.

"Quit arguing Jones!" she yelled, eyes frantic. "Stay here, and stay safe."

And she was out the door within a split second, not even bothering to shut it behind her. And no matter how much she may have wanted to lock him out of her life, Killian Jones was much too stubborn for that.

The ship pitched violently as Killian ran up the stairs, clutching the rails for dear life. He didn't no why he had such a desire to help her. Maybe it was some sick sense of self-deprecation, but either way, he went.

And was promptly hit by a cascade of freezing water as a wave rolled over the boat. He clung onto the railing as it subsided before rushing upwards onto the deck. People were in a frenzy, looking everywhere – up at the quarterdeck, over the edge…

"Emma…EMMA!"

Graham's voice pierced Killian's ears. He wasn't sure if it was because of the subject matter or because the words were simply so foreign, but he was knocked into panic too. Emma was a woman's name…

And there was only one woman on this ship.

Without a second thought, Killian grabbed the nearest rope that had come loose with the wave and looped it through his belt. He saw where Graham was desperately searching the water, and without another moments hesitation, ran and jumped into the dark depths below.

His nostrils were immediately filled with water, but he took only a split second to clear his lungs before he was swimming parallel to the ship. A flash of lightening illuminated a shadow that looked vaguely like a human, and he took the little sight he had, and he swum for her just as another large wave proceeded towards the ship.

As he ducked under the water, he prayed to whatever gods where out there that she was still alive. His heart was beating erratically, but that beating heart was all that spurred him onwards. He could see her…drifting…a hand above the water…

He reached through the dark depths and pulled the rope through his belt loop to wrap around her and within seconds he had it tied off. As lightning struck again, he saw the pallid nature of her face and hurriedly tugged on the rope several times.

Most of the crew must have jumped on it because it felt like he was flying out of the water, spluttering air as rain met his face. He looked at her fearfully. She was white as a sheet, colder than ice.

She wasn't breathing.

The minute they hit the deck, Killian was laying her down, tilting her head back, and pushing down on her chest to force the water from her lungs. But she didn't move.

He opened her mouth and placed his lips upon hers, breathing for her, since she couldn't breath for herself. No matter what, she was not dying on his watch.

He was met with her body turning over and retching water onto the deck. She coughed and spluttered as Graham came scrambling down the stairs. As he breathed a sigh of relief, Killian realised they were heading out to calmer seas once more, the waves turning into large, but steady, swells, and the sun was peeking its way through the clouds.

A light layer of rain dusted them all, but it wasn't until she stopped coughing that Killian realised she was holding onto his collar for dear life, even as she coughed away from him. Finally, when she was breathing somewhat normally, Graham leant down and swept her into his arms, carrying her down to her quarters despite the way she weakly protested against him.

Killian hurried along behind them, almost not realising that the crew were patting him on the back as he went, muttering words of thanks and bravery. He had to see her. Had to see that she was okay.

Graham was kneeling by her bedside when he entered. Killian leant against the doorway, his arms folded as he watched the exchange. Emma was absently coughing between telling Graham off. His face was worried, but she was quite plainly telling him to bugger off.

When she caught sight of Killian in the doorway, her eyes lit up for a moment before dulling once more. She turned back to Graham and said something with enough finality that he stood up, gave a sigh, and turned to leave.

His eyes narrowed at Killian as he left.

"She's sick," Graham said gruffly.

"As the one who pulled her from the water, I know, mate," Killian answered sharply, giving as good as he got with him blue eyes narrowing. Graham left without another glance backward, closing the door behind him.

Killian walked across the floor lightly as Emma raised herself up, reaching for her glass of water as she tried to flush the salt of the ocean from her system. She twisted her legs off the bed gingerly, and Killian saw that there were bruises along them. Of course, she would've been battered along the ship's hull…

"I need help," she whispered finally, her eyes on the floor. Killian didn't question her, and leant down in front of her, reaching for the clasps of her corset. He didn't find anything remotely sexual in the act; this was practicality. He put the wet leather on her chair, followed by her wet cotton shirt. Trying to get her torn leather pants off was a trial, but eventually, they managed together.

She didn't make a noise whenever he touched a bruise or a cut. She simply sat there.

He cleansed her wounds quickly, eager to get her skin warm once more. And after wrapping a nasty looking cut on her calf, he inclined his head towards the bed, silently asking her to sit down. They hadn't spoken at all since she had asked for help, and he wasn't going to break that pattern with something as trivial as asking her to lie down.

But she seemed to have other ideas, tucking her hair behind her ear with a softly shaking hand before biting down of her lip.

"I owe you my life," she whispered emptily, and that was when Killian realised where her hands were going; towards the ties of his pants. "I have to repay the debt. I have to repay my debts."

"No, Swan…" He pushed her hands away as gently as he could, eyes widening as he questioned her. He grasped her wrists in confused frustration. "There is no debt."

"There's always a debt," she muttered, her body shaking and Killian remembered what he'd been trying to do a moment ago. Without another moment passing, he scooped her into his arms and placed her back in the bed.

"No, Henry," she muttered, and then again, louder, "Henry! Henry!"

"Bloody hell, Swan," he swore, trying to disentangle the vice grip on her colour as her eyes stared wide and unseeing behind him. It was worse than he'd thought. She was delirious. "You need to rest."

"No," she whispered, her eyes lazily finding Killian's again she tried to pull her face into a sensual mask but her skin was too pallid. Her body shaking and sickly. "Don't you want me, Killian?"

She never called him Killian.

"I want you willing and lucid," he groaned, finally managing to make her lie down. Pulling the covers up over her, she battled against him, flailing as her hands reached blindly again.

"No, no! You can't take him from me! You can't! I'll pay! Don't…don't…." She stumbled herself into silence and when Killian looked closer he realised that her eyes were closed, a single tear sliding down her cheek to meet her blanket.

When he thought she was asleep, he stood up from the edge of her bed, only to find a slightly warmer hand reaching for his. When he turned around in curious surprise, it was to see her eyes honest, wide and innocent, pleading with him.

"Hold me?"

And Killian didn't argue with her. Simply pulling his boots from his feet and climbing under the covers alongside her. Wrapping his arms around her, she snuggled backwards against him, allowing his warmth to seep into her bones.

And when he placed a gentle kiss to her shoulder, he didn't question that either.

"Not a word of this to the crew," she whispered just before he drifted off to sleep. And he thought he murmured, "Okay."

But then sleep took him in it's arms and they were lost to the darkness.


	8. I'm only going over home

**_4 Years Ago_ **

_The ship was being boarded by unfortunate looking men, only Neal didn't seem to mind. Emma watched on in confusion as she stood carefully in the shadows. Their swords weren't drawn, but she was still scared. She knew she could defend herself. But it wasn't only her she had to worry about anymore._

_She placed her hand on her stomach. She was no more than two months, not even showing yet, but on the seas, she already feared for her child's life._

_Even more so as she watched Rumplestiltskin…no… The Dark One, step onto the Wayfaring Stranger. She remembered the tales of fear her mother had told her as a child. But then…he embraced…_

_"Neal," Emma choked, rushing forward. "You…know each other?"_

_"Emma," he laughed nervously, looking between the strange man and his lover, "Erm, this is my father. Rumplestiltskin."_

_The man wasn't looking at her. He was looking at her stomach. And her heart contracted in terrifying fear. Gods. He knew._

_"Come back with me, son," Rumplestiltskin ordered, his eyes flashing, "Or that little baby is one that you'll never see."_

_Neal's brow furrowed._

_"What?"_

_"Your little girly here," Rumplestiltskn grinned, taking a step closer to run his hand over Emma's still flat stomach. She shivered in fear. "She's got your son inside her. Now you can come back with me, or you can stay here and she comes with me."_

_"Never," Neal hissed, still reeling over the news that he was going to be a father._

_"You sign her fate," Rumplestiltskin shrugged. And before Emma could even gasp, she had disappeared alongside the Dark One in a cloud of purple smoke._

* * *

 

**_3 Years and 3 Months Ago_ **

_"It hurts," Emma hissed as tears ran down her face, her hands wrapping around her stomach. "Oh gods, I think it's time."_

_"Breathe, Emma," Belle whispered, leaning by her bedside, "It's going to be okay."_

_"Why isn't he here?" Emma whimpered, refusing to look at the girl. "Why hasn't he come for me; it's been seven months. He should have come."_

_"Rumplestiltskin….he…" Belle pursed her lips. "He's never been on good terms with Bae, or Neal, as he likes to be called now. Neal hates Rumplestiltskin's power."_

_"So do I –" Her words were cut off by a scream of pain as her contractions escalated. Tears were streaming from her eyes, in pain and sadness. And fear._

_"What's he going to do with him?" Emma whispered, looking over at Belle. "What's the Dark One going to do with my baby?"_

_"I don't know, Emma," Belle answered sympathetically. "I'm so sorry."_

_Emma bit down on her lip and nodded in defeat._

_Hours later, she was holding her baby, tears running down her face as she waited in fear. Belle had left her alone to spend some time with her child. She fed him for the first time and watched as her baby – her Henry – fell asleep in her arms._

_"Emma?"_

_Her eyes looked upwards to see Graham in the doorway. Her mouth dropped open in shock as he walked towards her, relief plain across his face._

_"Gods Emma, I've been searching for you for years! Belle found me; I don't…" He suddenly realised what she was holding and froze. Finally, he spoke up, his voice sounding disused, yet looking at her as though the last two years didn't lie between them._

_"We're getting out of here," he whispered, his grey eyes shining. "Come on."_

_They didn't get halfway down the hallway before the imp-like man was standing right in front of her. His face was livid._

_"You owe me a debt, dearie."_

_"I owe you nothing!" Emma answered through gritted teeth, Henry clutched tightly to her chest._

_"Oh? Did you not steal my son from me?"_

_"He was a pirate long before I came along," Emma answered bitterly. Yes. He was a pirate. A pirate who never came for her._

_"And yet he would've come home from his rebellion had you not been there. Now I will take my grandchild as payment. And you, my lovely lady, shouldn't worry about him. I'll take good care of him."_

_And before Emma could blink, her child was in the monster's arms. And she was frozen in place; unable to move._

_"No…you can't take my baby! Please! I'll pay you! I swear!" Emma was frantic. Moving her mouth desperately._

_"No deal, dearie."_

_"HENRY!"_

_But Rumplestiltsking waved his hand, and Emma and Graham were gone, surrounded by a bustling portside town. And Graham was looking at her in horror. Her hands went up to her mouth to stifle her cries and suddenly he was in front of her, arms surrounding her and clutching her tightly._

_She swore she would never be helpless again._

* * *

 

"No. Save me," Emma whimpered in her sleep. "Save me; save him. Help me get him back. Help me…"

"Shh, Emma," Killian murmured, his thumb tracing soft circles on her bare hip, still half asleep. "It's okay. You're okay."

She froze in his arms and he decided to pull himself from sleep.

"You called me Emma." Her voice was dangerously even. Finally, she pulled away from him before deciding to turn over and face him. Her eyes were wide and frantic; her arms coming up to cover herself as though he hadn't seen her naked body many times before.

"I heard Graham say it, I…" Killian gulped. There was a reason she hadn't told him. She wanted the distance. "I thought it would be okay."

Her head tilted at him as though she was trying to stare into his very soul. Finally, she lowered her hands from her chest and placed them on his waist. Shuffling closer, she put her hands on his chest, smoothing over his rumpled shirt delicately. Her head tilted closer, to place a chaste kiss on his lips.

When she pulled away, she whispered, "It might've seemed like I was delusional last night. But I remember it all. Thank you."

"Always, Captain," he answered, surprising even himself. His hand was back at her hip as she began to draw herself closer once more.

"Emma," she corrected, pulling herself up onto her elbows and tucking her hair behind her ear before kissing him deeply. It burned slowly into a fire as Emma slipped her hands beneath his shirt to slowly remove him of it.

* * *

 

As the morning sun slipped into her cabin, he ran his fingertips over her skin and for the first time, Emma didn't protest. And it wasn't because she felt she owed him…well, maybe somewhere in her mind, she did.

But she couldn't forget the way his eyes had looked as she begged him last night. His face was hazy, but it was there. And when she asked for his help, he gave it without question.

She traced her lips along his jaw and down his chest until he was turning her over, his lips following a path down her body. His mouth suckled on her nipples, pointed peaks forming beneath his ministrations. Her lithe body arched into his rough hands as he kissed her skin beneath her breasts, her navel, settling his shoulders between her legs.

Emma's eyes shot open from her pleasure filled haze to find his breath against her wet and throbbing centre.

"What…what are you doing?"

"I want to," he hesitated, "I want to make you feel good."

"You don't have to – fuck…"

She trailed off as his tongue made contact with her heat and she moaned aloud, a wanton sound that spurred Killian on. His hand pushed her hip down before dragging her leg up over her shoulder.

"Jones," she groaned, her hands threading into his hair as he lapped at her clit, before pushing a finger into her teasingly.

She gave a grunt of annoyance when he came up for air, her juices smeared across his chin.

"Killian," he corrected before going back down. But Emma couldn't take it anymore. This man. This man…

"Get up here," she groaned, pulling his head up. He seemed surprised, but acquiesced. Emma's hands went straight for his pants that she pushed down within moments. He was hot and hard against her thigh, and bucking her hips against him, she gave him direction without words.

He slipped into her easily, a breathy sigh of relief escaping his lips that sounded a little like her name. A shiver of pleasure left her as she realised that he desired her in that way. Their hips danced against each other in a pleasurable erotic rhythm, their breaths mingling as Killian's eyes stared down at her.

She captured his lips, their tongues tangling together as she tasted herself on him and plundered his mouth deeply. Her pleasure came upon her in slow waves that built like the storm of last night.

And when Killian's thrusts began to stutter against her and she felt him spill himself inside of her, her walls clenched and she fell into a haze of pleasure, closing her eyes as she rode it out against him. She murmured his name beneath her breath as she held him tightly against her, hands clutching at his muscled back.

Killian wasn't sure what to make of it as he held himself above her, watching the dark haze of lust fade from her emerald eyes. He stroked her face delicately and she turned her face into his palm, rubbing against his rough palm softly.

When he finally collapsed beside her, it was in conflict with his thoughts. Because what he'd just done with Emma Swan felt a lot more like making love than either of them cared to admit.

And they fell back to sleep in the early morning with those thoughts swirling in their heads.

* * *

 

When Killian awoke once more, the sun was high in the sky and Emma was sitting at her desk, reading a book. Killian tried to peek at her though his closed eyelashes, and noticed that it was the book she'd told him was 'shit' yesterday.

Apparently she didn't think so today.

"Don't try and pretend you're still asleep," Emma said without looking up. Killian didn't do the same however, pulling his naked self up onto his elbows, obviously and blatantly staring at her.

She seemed more at ease than he'd ever seen her. Feet up on the desk and leaning back as her eyes skimmed easily over the words. Once again he was struck by the elegance that hid beneath her persona. That part of her that was a well-educated, lovely young lady.

"What are you doing?" Emma asked finally, eyes rising from the book.

"Watching a beautiful woman," Killian answered honestly. She blushed slightly, her mouth creeping into a smile.

"You can go and see your brother if you'd like," Emma said, standing up and stretching her limbs. "He probably needs some food too since everyone's been sleeping."

Killian didn't miss that she was offering her his freedom, or as much freedom as she could when they were on the open seas. He stood up, forgetting for a moment that he was completely naked. Emma's wide eyes gave him insight however and a second later she was standing right in front of him, green eyes looking up at his face curiously.

"Thank you," she finally whispered.

* * *

 

She brought her lips up to his and gave him a gentle kiss. Pulling away, she gave him a soft grin and continued, "Clothes are in that cupboard. Put some on before I'm tempted to push you back down on that bed again."

She smirked when she realised he was reluctant to move, her suggestion perhaps a lot more tempting than he was willing to admit. But Emma withdrew herself for both their sakes. After yesterday and the events of this morning, she needed a break.

Heading outside, she breathed the fresh air, making her way up the stairs to where Graham was speaking with Booth, gesticulating wildly. However, the moment Booth saw her, he prodded Graham who shut up. Emma smiled softly.

"Can I speak to my first mate, Booth?" Emma inquired, but still holding the authoritative edge to her voice. Despite how good she was feeling, she couldn't let her Captaincy slip. Booth nodded and extracted himself whilst Graham turned around slowly.

A small smile slipped onto his face when he saw her walking up to him.

"You're pale," he said, but obviously she looked well enough that it wasn't too much of a problem.

"I almost drowned," she reminded him teasingly, only to watch as his face fell. Whatever she'd been expecting from her best friend, it hadn't been that.

"I should've saved you," he muttered finally.

"Hey," she commented, reaching out her arm comfortingly. "I trusted you with control of the ship. If you'd let our home reach the depths I would've come back from the dead to haunt you."

"But you're my…"

Emma's sudden hard look must have changed his train of thought because he finished, "…captain. I should've been looking out for you."

"It's fine, Jones did," Emma shrugged, stepping closer.

"Yes, our prisoner who we're going to sell in Denior," Graham rolled his eyes. "Now I have to be grateful to him?"

"You don't have to, but it would be nice," Emma proffered, watching as Graham's eyes narrowed. He glanced away in thought before a small smile quirked his lips.

He scoffed, "I knew it."

"What are you talking about-"

"You  _feel_  for him."

"I do not!" Emma hissed. "How dare you say that!"

"Oh?" his eyebrow went up. "If you don't, kiss me."

"What the fuck is wrong with you…"

"If sleeping with him doesn't mean anything," Graham challenged, "Then kissing me won't make any difference."

Emma, bit down on her lip, anger flushing through her. "I don't have to fucking prove  _anything_  to you."

And Graham's smug face burned her. He thought he'd won.

She threw her hand up to his neck and dragged his face to hers, lips crushing together in a mass of teeth and tongues and anger and satisfaction. He loved her. She knew that. But she couldn't love. And he should know that better than anyone.

When she pulled away, Graham looked dazed and Emma eyed him fiercely.

But when she walked down to the deck and spotted Killian looking over at her in shock, something broke inside her. His mouth was hanging open, eyes wide and hurt.

_He'd seen it._

So she ran back to her cabin, and sunk into her desk seat like a child running from her problems. And she didn't resurface for the rest of the day.

Because she couldn't. She couldn't be…

She couldn't love Killian…

Could she?


	9. I know dark clouds will gather 'round me

**_Two Years Ago_ **

_Emma was laid out on the deck of the empty and abandoned Wayfaring Stranger, sitting in the port of Senzen with no sight of Neal Gold. Run off most likely. Like the coward that he was._

_And so the Wayfaring Stranger was hers._

_And she was lying on the wooden panels, staring up at the stars, a mostly drunk bottle of rum next to her and her best friend staring, infatuated, at her._

_"He'd be two years old now, Graham," she whispered longingly, reaching for the bottle once more._

_"I think you've had enough, Emma," he said, tugging the bottle from her grasp and putting it out of her reach. She rolled over to look up at his sitting figure, her face forming a soft pout that didn't quite reach her eyes._

_"Have I?" she teased, slurring her words slightly. Her head cocked as she looked up at him, bathed in movement. "You're pretty. I like you."_

_Graham let out a breath of a self-deprecating laugh, "I like you too, Emma."_

_"You're strong," she continued, pulling herself up and sidling closer, "And you're brave and you've never left me. You came back for me." She frowned, reaching for his arm. He seized up when she touched him, but she didn't stop. "Why did you never leave me? I was a bitch and a monster and a terrible human being. Why won't you leave me…" Emma trailed off, her green eyes looking down in sadness._

_"I love you, Emma." Graham said them as though they were the simplest three words in the world and Emma couldn't understand it. Love was what Neal had shared with her. And look how that had ended up. So she played along, looking back up at him curiously, and a little coyly._

_"Why do you love me?"_

_"Does there have to be a reason?" Graham answered, wondering why she hadn't just slapped him yet. The old Emma would have._

_"Yes. Everything comes with a price." And the desperation in her voice stirred something within him that he thought he'd suppressed years ago. And before he knew it, she was kissing him. Her warm, rum soaked lips against his that tasted strangely of apples. And she knew she shouldn't and he knew he shouldn't. But they did anyway._

_He laid her down, and she pulled his shirt over his head. And they touched each other, unclothed each other, and moved together until they were brought to ecstasy, falling asleep beneath a thick brown blanket in the early hours of the morning._

_The next day, they were finding a crew and they were sailing off into the world, the leather clad, hard assed Captain Swan leading the crew of the newly named Wandering Lady across the seas and never looking at Graham the way he wished, again._

_But she led her crew with the hope that, one day, she would find her way back to Henry._

* * *

 

Killian knocked on Emma's door hesitantly. He'd spent most of the day with his brother, but he wasn't sure whether she wanted him or…

A soft, "Come in", echoed from inside. Killian entered cautiously. Emma was just finishing the last pages of the book she'd been reading that morning. Her eyes looked tired as he entered and sat down on the edge of the bed facing her. She didn't look up, merely asking with a disused voice, "How's Liam?"

"He's good," Killian answered in surprise that she cared. "Well, as good as one can be in the current circumstances."

They fell into silence as Emma finished reading the last page. Killian could've sworn he saw a tear slip past her eye, but she wiped it away before he could truly see that it was there.

"Er, what time is it?" she asked, finally looking up at him distantly.

"Are you okay?" he asked, wondering why she was so upset. He felt uneasy knowing that she'd kissed Graham, but he'd spent the day venting to Liam. She had nothing to be sorry for. He knew where they stood.

"I'm fine," she said fiercely. And it was so obvious that she wasn't that Killian didn't even hesitate to walk over to her and kneel at her side.

"You're not," he answered, honestly. Why was he doing this? She could sell him if she decided to. He shouldn't pry.

And yet he couldn't stand seeing her in pain.

"But that's okay," Killian reassured her, gently taking the hand that was clenched on her thigh and taking it between his own. He slowly unfolded her fingers until they were flat against his, and lifted it to entwine his fingers.

Emma looked from their hands to his face. It was clear. She hadn't put any make-up on. She looked younger than ever, and it was only then that he actually questioned how old she was. She was so youthful…marrying age even…

Gods, he was going to the slave courts for even mentioning this.

"You…" he pursed his lips. "You were crying out for someone called Henry last night."

Emma flinched at the sound of the name, and in the same movement, she tried to tear her hand from his. But Killian liked to pretend that he knew what he was doing, and he held on. Because even if she was loath to admit it, it was so obvious that she needed someone to hold on to.

"Henry," she breathed, her eyes closing. And this time, Killian knew that he saw a tear escaping her eye. And she didn't try and wipe it away. Instead, Emma Swan bent her head. And Killian watched as the strongest woman he'd ever met; cried.

"Hey," he whispered soothingly, rubbing his thumb over her hand tenderly. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me."

But after a few moments, he heard a soft hiccup followed by, "He's mine. My little boy..."

Killian tried not to let his surprise show on his face. A child. A bastard evidently. But still alive, only not with his mother.

For a moment, he thought he understood her.

"What do you want me to do for you tonight, Captain?" Killian asked softly. They both knew that tomorrow was judgement day. To sell him and Liam in Denior, or to set them both free. Emma took a few moments before looking up at him with a soft frown. Her eyes were red and puffy but Killian still gave her his full attention. Even in distress, she was so beautiful.

"You still want me?" she whispered.

And that was his breaking point. Those four words of insecurity brought his heart into his throat and he was leaning up towards her, bringing her lips down for a tender kiss that tasted of salty tears and despair. And no matter what kind of….stirrings…were present in him, he chose to ignore them for the time being. This was purely for her.

And perhaps, those indistinct feelings, may have had something to do with it too.

She practically fell into him, pushing herself of the chair and into his lap, falling in a mess onto the rug that covered the cabin floor. She moved against him softly, green eyes wandering over his body as she slowly undid his buttons. As she brushed her lips down his neck and over his collarbone, Killian shivered. He didn't know the particulars of what haunted her, but if she combatted it by making love, he couldn't help but think that was a good thing.

_Making love._

He wasn't sure why he was calling it that, but it had to be. That's exactly what it felt like as he rolled her over onto the carpet and kissed her gently before removing her corset with practised fingers. Her body shivered beneath his touch; a low whine escaping her lips.

"Killian," she breathed as his hands skimmed her waist, pushing her black shirt over her head, revealing her white skin to his wandering hands. As he leant down to run his lips over her skin, he heard himself muttering against her.

"You're beautiful," he whispered against her. "So beautiful."

And for the first time, he took the chance to trace her scars with his fingertips and his lips. She was so tough and strong but here, beneath him, she was warm and welcoming, pliant and sensual and he wanted her so much it was hard to think that three days ago he'd never felt a woman's touch.

He'd never felt  _her_ touch.

And it burned him. Her desire burned him. As they touched each other and whispered in the candlelit cabin as the ship rocked beneath them, she imprinted herself on his soul. And he wasn't sure how, or why, only that she did. And he couldn't care less. Because he had her in his arms, and the thought that she was going to let him go didn't even cross his mind as he brought her to ecstasy time and time again before coming to completion himself.

He tugged a blanket from her bed and wrapped it around the two of them, both too replete to move. When he wrapped his arms around her, she didn't shy away. In fact, she snuggled closer to him, burrowing into his chest with a small and satisfied, dare he even think it,  _smile,_  upon her face.

"Who are you, Emma Swan," he sighed wistfully, holding her close.

Emma peeked her green eyes up at him, teasing, "Wouldn't you like to know."

"Perhaps…" Oh gods. No. He couldn't say that… "Perhaps I would."

* * *

 

Emma pulled away at the intensity in his eyes, scrabbling for purchase in the blanket. No. No, he couldn't…

He couldn't want to stay.

She wouldn't let him stay.

Not just to abandon her like Neal.

"Put your clothes on," she answered frantically as she scrabbled for her own. She was trying to desperately hard to be the Captain again, but with every glance she stole of Killian, her walls just refused to build themselves back up. He was confused. His hair was stuck up at odd angles. Gods, she wanted to tug him back to her and kiss him until her lips bled.

And then tomorrow he'd be gone.

They dressed in silence, until finally, Emma grabbed her keys and headed to the door. He walked behind her across the deck, like a prisoner resigned to his execution. But when she stole a glance at him, it was only to find him staring heavenward at the stars. And despite her fears, she couldn't help but ask, "The stars, you find them comforting?"

He nodded. He refused to look at her. Even when she locked him back in the brig, his brother sleeping soundly behind him, he looked at the floor. Until just as she was about to go back on deck, Killian spoke from the darkness.

"What did I do?"

"Nothing," she answered completely honestly. He hadn't done anything. He was just…a weakness. Yes. That was it. She couldn't afford that. She couldn't afford to have her  _feelings_  grow into something more.

"Emma," he whispered, clutching the bars desperately. "Please. Have I done something to hurt you?"

"No," she answered once more, taking one last sad look at him. "I just…" She hesitated before shaking her head. Finally she muttered, "I find the stars comforting, too."

And the final time, she plunged him into the black of night.

But something grew in that place. Feeding. Moulding. Darkness…

* * *

 

It was night the next day when Graham finally pulled the ship into the portside docks of Denior. He'd checked on Emma a few times throughout the day, but each time she'd been monosybillic, offering him nothing more than short orders of direction.

"Just head straight to Denior," she said the last time, "Leave me in peace."

And when they were pulling into the dock, anchor weighed and lowering the gangplank, that was when he went down for the final time and whispered, "Emma. It's time."

There was the soft sound of a chair moving before she poked her head out of the door. Her eyes seemed a little puffy, almost like she'd been crying. Graham's heart stuttered. He hadn't seen her cry since, well, Henry.

"Let them go," she whispered.

Graham hesitated, putting his hand on the door and questioning, "Are you sure, Emma? You have to be sure."

"Let them go," she repeated, before closing the door quickly. Graham sighed upon her disappearance. He grabbed his keys and headed to the brig, unlocking the door and waking the brothers with the sound.

"What?" Liam said, stirring groggily.

"Get up. You go free."

"What?" Killian seemed surprised. Graham wondered what had passed between him and Emma yesterday afternoon.

"Get out before I take you to the courts."

Liam slipped out first followed by Killian, who seemed hesitant. Whilst Liam practically bounded towards freedom, Killian stopped when he stepped his feet onto the dock. He stopped. He turned.

"It's because you love her isn't it?" Killian said strongly, a slightly pained expression upon his face. "You can't stand to think that she might be happy with someone else."

"If I knew that you would make her happy, Jones," he hissed in response, "I'd have no hesitations. But she isn't ready."

"You can't know that," he answered, and Graham heard the desperation in his voice. "You're blinded by your own feelings."

"Just as you're blinded by yours," Graham called back to him, the anger disappearing from his voice. "SHe told me to set you free, Jones. These are her orders. Please, follow your brother. Leave."

"I will find her," Killian warned Graham. "If it takes me years, I swear to you. I will find her."

"Good luck," Graham answered in disbelief, giving him a mock salute before sliding away the gangplank and calling something out to the few crewmen on deck. Before Killian could fully comprehend what was happening, the gangplank was lifted, and the ship had disappeared.

And the Wandering Lady wandered on.

* * *

 

Killian Jones was downright miserable. His brother was sitting across from him, scribbling down a note to send off to the nearest army encampment. They needed horses and supplies to get back to their kingdom and speak with their king. Liam knew they would be relying upon their reputations to get through this event because having an entire crew turn pirate was an embarrassment to their leadership and to their king.

"You can relax, brother," Liam said as he looked over his pen. "The worst is behind us."

"Yeah," Killian answered in distraction. "It is."

"Your heart doesn't agree, does it, Killian?"

Killian finally zoned back into his brother's words when that was said.

"What?" he asked sharply. "What the bloody hell gives you that idea?"

"You haven't said a word since we left the ship," Liam answered, "You've spoken of nothing but Captain Swan for the past week."

"That's because there was little for conversation, Liam," Killian said sharply, "Unless you wanted to discuss the speed at which mice travelled."

"You're deflecting," Liam commented, his eyes knowing. "You haven't done that since…"

"Mother died," Killian finished, looking up at Liam. "Don't continue this conversation, brother. Send that letter and be done with it. We'll get back to our city and we will find a new ship and we will return to our life. And Emma Swan will never cross my mind again."

"And that promise you made, Killian?" Liam enquired. "About finding her? I've never known you to break a promise."

Killian was silent.

* * *

 

Emma was throwing a stone back and forth between her hands as she looked out over the sea. Graham stood beside her. She knew he was relieved to finally see her outside and above deck. Her skin was pale from lack of sun and the men were antsy without any direction.

"Is that stone going to keep you occupied as we travel further south?" Graham's voice interrupted her thoughts. He was smiling at her, his face carefree and relaxed, but still slightly hesitant as he tried to gage her current state of mind.

"We're going to find Henry," she said suddenly.

"I know that, Em-"

"No," she cut him off. "I've been too busy wallowing in grief, thinking that one day we'll just stumble upon him. But things like that don't just happen. We're going back to the Dark One's castle, and I'm going to haunt him until he tells me where he placed my son."

"And what if he's there, still?" Graham answered, "Henry being Rumplestiltkin's next chance at the perfect son."

"Then I'll take his dagger," Emma answered resolutely, "And I will cut his throat with it."

"And your son?"

"No matter what," Emma answered as she stood beside Graham, her eyes focused and her body standing strong, "I will not abandon him..."


	10. I know my way is rough and steep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time lapse - Dub-con.

**Four Years Later**

Emma was regretting her decision to not dress in her usual manner. The wind was freezing and she was clutching a shawl around her shoulders. It was late, nearing midnight, but she knew that the man she was looking for would be holed up in the Windfall Inn, most likely working his way through men's gold and in between women's legs.

Captain Hook was a menace to the world, but so far, Emma Swan had managed to stay clear of him. It was good. Pirates that met out on the open sea were stubborn. And from what she'd heard, this man was lethal. And despite her confidence that four years ago she was the most fearsome pirate to roam the seas, the rumoured handsome man with a hook had her worried.

But he also had something she needed.

She'd heard whispers on the black market that he was the only person alive to know how to cross worlds, and it was well known that he lived with a vendetta against the man who cut off his hand.

The very man, or  _thing_ , who Emma simply hadn't been able to find over the last four years. And to be honest, she was growing more than a little desperate. Which was why she was out in the dead of night leaving Graham and the rest of her crew sound asleep on the Wandering Lady. He wouldn't approve.

But she was the Captain.

Although, at the moment, she was looking more akin to some tawdry tavern girl who couldn't help but show off more cleavage that was strictly necessary.

She flicked her hood off her golden hair as she entered the warmth of the tavern. The glow of a roaring fireplace cast yellow light onto the stone walls and the patrons of the Windfall Inn. Amongst the groups of rowdy men, it took her a few moments to spot who she was looking for. But eventually, the glint of light off a silver hook gave her the position of the Captain sitting near the fire. He was at a table with a few women at either side rolling some dice from his hand. She couldn't properly see his face, turned away from her and holding a mug up to his lips. But she bit her lip and rendered herself confident. Swallowing her pride, she tucked her hair behind her ears and walked forward. But just as she'd put her hands down on the table and began to introduce herself with a flirty comment, her eyes widened in fear and shock and instead all that came out was a squeaky:

"Killian?"

* * *

 

Hook was pleasantly buzzed. He had women pressed against him on either side and he was enjoying their warm companionship. He'd enjoy them even more later.

But right now, that wasn't the most pressing matter. He was scanning the room. Waiting for the bloody bastard Blackbeard to appear with his information on the Dark One's dagger. In the meantime, he was rolling dice with his men, gambling away his well plundered gold, but earning just as much in return. He'd tried to remain as sober as possible with the rounds of drinks going around the table, but it was proving difficult to keep a clear head as the night grew later. Now, he was quite enamoured with the lovely brunette at his side as she stroked his thigh leisurely through his leather pants. Danielle…Dana…

Well, it didn't quite matter. She'd be the one screaming, not him.

He was just about to retire from his games and give up the wait for Blackbeard when a shadow blocked his light. Thoughts of taking Dana/Danielle upstairs were wiped from his mind as he looked up at the wench who was blocking the light, a halo surrounding her beautiful face. A face that he had come to hope and plead that he would never see again. It was the only promise he'd come to terms with breaking.

But here she was.

"Killian?" her bright green eyes widened and for a moment Hook could imagine that the last four years hadn't happened. That she was looking at him in the moments after they had made love and nothing stood between them.

But that moment passed quickly, and a slow smirk spread across his face, eyes glinting coldly as he said, "Swan. Well, if it isn't the very pirate captain I was hoping to never see again."

"But you…" Her eyes gazed over his figure in shock. Her mind couldn't comprehend it and her face gave her away. She simply couldn't comprehend that he had turned from who he used to be, the honourable Lieutenant Jones to a dastardly handsome pirate. She couldn't comprehend that Killian Jones could become…Captain Hook?

"Take a seat, love," he grinned, giving his men a dismissive wave. He gave the woman beside him an intense look, meaning to make her follow them. He'd suddenly lost the carnal desires he'd been willing to let her satisfy a moment ago. The mere presence of Emma Swan flooding his senses. Danielle tried to pout her resistance, but Hook gave her no heed and after a moment she sighed, and followed the men away.

He smiled in satisfaction before looking back up at Emma who still hadn't moved. Her bosom – and my, the corset did wonders for it – heaved gently as she caught her breath. She seemed to be mildly hyperventilating, and his pride surged. Even after she'd abandoned him. Kicked him out to the cold. Refused to give in to her feelings. He still had that effect upon her.

"You're Captain Hook," she finally said, trying to keep the breathlessness out of her voice and failing miserably.

"Aye," he said, not taking his sharp blue eyes off her as he added in a voice that begged no question, "Now if I were you, Captain Swan, I'd take a seat."

And despite her obvious misgivings, she did.

Killian reached for the half empty jug on the table, his hands loosely moving it to the clean pile of cups and grabbing her one. He knew how much she loved her rum, so he didn't hesitate to fill it before replenishing his own.

"So,  _Captain_ ," he began, the title slipping from his lips tauntingly. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"You'll find no pleasure with me, Jo–"

"Ah, ah!" he stopped her with a tsk. "That's not my name, love."

" _Hook_ ," she interjected. "This is business."

"Who says we can't have both, Swan?" he retorted, eyes raking over her body. She was wearing clothing clearly designed to distract if not seduce her target. She clearly hadn't been expecting him, dashing rapscallion, to be on the receiving end of her feminine wiles.

"Shut up," she hissed, drawing her cloak back over herself, but it didn't quite cover her. "I need help with something. Rumour has it you're the only person who's done cross realm travel."

"I have," he answered, leaning back, "Wasn't the best of experiences. Do tell why you need my  _services_ , Captain Swan."

"The Dark One," she said simply, and his ears pricked at the mention of the demon. His hand clenched as he brought it down on the table beside his rum. He leant in closer as he hissed.

"And what do you know of him, Swan? The Dark One isn't someone you attack on a whim."

"I've been at this game far longer that you have, Hook," Emma answered, tapping her nails on the table with each word she said. "You know that. And you know I do nothing without reason."

"You did me without reason," he hissed bitterly.

"Gods, you're still stuck on that?" Emma answered in frustration. "Look, if you can't help me, then I'll leave and you'll never have to see me again."

Killian knew without doubt that wasn't an option.

"If the Dark One is your target, then other realms will do you no good," he replied honestly. "The Dark One's dagger is the only way to control and kill him. Upon my return from Neverland I learnt that he keeps it on him. In his castle. Nigh impregnable."

"Unless you're a skilled thief," Emma pondered in mild surprise. "Good thing I am."

"Swan," Hook said doubtfully. "That's a suicide mission." He was still annoyed that Blackbeard hadn't shown up with the Dark One's itinerary for the week.

"If he ends up dead, does it matter?"

"What?" Hook was momentarily stunned, but Emma merely shrugged.

"So, the dagger."

"Oh no, lass," Hook interrupted, his hook tapping the table impatiently, "This is my job, Swan, and you'll not interfere unless you want a place in my brig."

"We can work together –"

Hook laughed coldly, "That doesn't sound like you at all. I thought you had a certain fondness for locking people in the brig. Surely you wouldn't mind a stay in the chambers of the Jolly Roger for a while."

"No," Emma's frown returned as she reached for her rum. "I'm not going to be your prisoner."

"I could just take you," he commented, leaning backwards, and the meaning wasn't lost on her, eyes widening in comprehension. And he knew he saw the darkening of lust in their emerald depths.

"So, here's my plan, Swan," Hook began. "I don't trust you. Not one bit. Never have, never will. You're going to 'seduce' me, and take me upstairs. Then I'm going to lock you inside for the night and take my ship and get out of here."

He watched as she thought over his words, and saw the moment she agreed. Leaning in closely to him, she whispered, "Shall we set sail, Captain?"

She slipped her left hand into his right and tagged him along and up the stairs. His crew gave loud jeers as Hook shot them a dashing smile. He kept his eyes firmly on her backside before sidling closer to her on the second landing.

"Room 6," he murmured. And it was only then that she realised how entirely inappropriately close to her he was and froze slightly. She almost sprinted to the door and Hook chuckled as he followed her into the room.

The darkness however, served an inconvenient purpose.

The moonlight through the window gave her skin an unearthly glow and Hook couldn't help but be enraptured by the shine. He was, after all, a pirate. And he took what he wanted.

Gods, he wanted her.

* * *

 

She wanted him.

She could feel his eyes on the back of her head. Staring at her; staring through her. Emma spun round to glance at him.

"You know," Hook pondered, a steely glint in his eye. "Since we're here…Strip."

"What?" Emma's mouth dropped open. Yes, she felt the electrical sexual charge that was emanating between the two of them. But she also knew that there was a four year absence sitting between them…

"Well if you won't…" he shrugged at her lack of reaction, reaching for the ties of her corset. She pulled away and he laughed. A cruel cutting laugh.

"I'm going to bed you either way, Swan," he continued, "You can either make it easy or hard. And I'm not adverse to either, as you can tell." He waved his hand over the growing arousal in his pants and Emma gulped, remembering what it felt like to have him inside her and her core clenching at the very thought.

But Emma had never seen this coldness. He wanted her body and nothing else. He wanted a good fuck and that was it. She couldn't remember there ever being absolutely  _no_  feelings involved. Gods. What had turned him into the pirate that stood before her?

His hand settled on her waist and a spark went through her. His body slid against hers, connecting through their clothing and her breath hitched.

"That's it darling," Hook crooned, pushing aside the hair on her neck to press his lips against her skin. His scruff scraped at her skin, the texture forcing her to shiver, goosebumps erupting over her skin as he brought the silvery hook up to the front of her corset.

She tried to stop him, but her own hands wouldn't let her. She damned her body, betraying her as wetness pooled between her thighs. Hook had her corset ripped open in seconds, the material falling to the floor in shreds. His hand began to bunch her skirts at her thigh as he groaned into the skin of her neck, rubbing himself against her ass. As he lifted the dress up and over her head, she didn't stop him. She helped him. Her arms up and reaching around to grasp the back of his neck as she crushed every thought that told her this was wrong and instead spun to kiss him.

Her lips connected with his softly at first, but he was having none of it. Hook wound his good hand through her golden locks, gripping it tightly as she groaned. He wasn't soft; he didn't want a lover.

The cold metal of his hook trailed down her body, awakening her nipples to the cool air and causing her to let out a low whimper in the back of her throat. He ripped through the material of her panties as she tried to tug his dark leather coat from his shoulders, but he was already pushing her towards the bed. At the edge, he pushed her onto the mattress and stood over her.

She was surprised by the space he commanded. He was hardly the same person. Sure, his face had similar features, but the man behind it…

As he threw off his jacket and shirt, he leant down to pull off her boots. Emma noticed the multiple scars that now criss-crossed his back. The soft marking of tattoos against the harsh signs of war. She reached to touch them when he muttered quickly, "Lie back on the bed, Swan."

He divested himself off his boots quickly, still unlacing his pants as he climbed onto the mattress after her. He was staring intently at her body, his tongue unconsciously slipping out to dampen his lips before he reached the woman before him. He hungrily bit down on the skin of her neck, sure to leave a mark that she protested. But it soon turned into a moan. And at last Emma gave in.

She reached for his pants and pushed them down past his fully hard cock. Hook's hand reached between her legs to find the readiness of her and he chuckled, "Deny yourself all you want, love," he whispered against her collar, "But you are so wet that I could fuck you when I've barely even touched you."

Emma gasped. It was the first time she'd ever heard him truly curse.

_Fuck, it shouldn't turn her on. But it did._

His fingers toyed with her folds, teasingly slipping in and out before he'd evidently grown tired, and settled his length between her legs. With one sharp thrust he was inside her. She screamed at the intrusion, hand clinging to his arms for support. He thrust shallowly to allow her to get used to him. And she was grateful. It had been a very long time since she'd last had a man.

It had been him in fact.

And gods, she'd missed him.

Despite the fact that it felt like there was something key missing, she loved the way that he filled her, his muscles tensing and releasing above her as he thrusted increasingly harder and faster until she felt the wooden headboard digging into her back painfully.

She opened her mouth to protest but Hook quieted her with a powerful kiss. It was possessive and marking and when he ordered her to turn over, she hesitated. This was so bad for her. Bad for him.

But she needed it.

She was on her knees, hands holding onto the headboard when he pushed himself into her again, filling and stretching her as he pounded into her body relentlessly. It was only then that Emma realised the intelligible grunts spilling from his mouth were a litany of curses.

Cursing her.

Because having her beneath him wasn't entirely because he wanted her. She was sure that was in there somewhere. But this…he was trying to punish her…

"Jones," she muttered softly and was met with the whispered curse of what she could now understand as,  _'Fucking bitch'._

"Jones," she repeated.

"What's the matter, Princess," he answered mockingly, leaning over her as he stilled for a moment. He pressed an unconvincingly soft kiss to her shoulder as he taunted, "Can't take it hard?"

She let out a whimper of pleasure as he began to move again, changing his angle so he was hitting that spot inside of her that made her see stars. With a few quick thrusts, she was shaking against him, walls clenching as she gasped and moaned loudly. Her arms went slack as she fell into the bed.

Hook stopped his movements and turned her over again. But Emma pushed through her haze. Yes. He could still bring her pleasure.

But this wasn't right.

She pushed him back on the bed with all the force she could muster, swinging her leg over him and sinking down onto his cock without a moment's thought. His head felt back as he was enveloped by her welcoming heat. She started hard. Riding him for all he was worth. But as time passed on and the simmerings of a strong desire built in her core, she began to run her hands up and down his chest, her lips following soon after.

Beneath her, she felt his body seize up, muscles clenching as his hand tightened harshly on her hip. It would leave a bruise, but she didn't mind. But she did consider the soft laughter spilling from his lips to be a point of frustration.

"Oh, Swan," he laughed softly, looking up at her, "You taught me how to fuck. I tried to fix you and look how that turned out. You fucked me. It seems we all end up fucking each other in the end."

"I didn't…I…"

"Don't make excuses for yourself, love," he hissed, jumping upright so that they were chest to chest. His breath was hot on her face and he breathed huskily, "You and I both know its true. Make me come and we're even."

"Why," she whispered as she began to roll her hips over him once again. "Why do this?"

"Because I can," he answered indifferently. "That's why you did, wasn't it?"

"I needed you," she answered angrily. "I didn't simply toy with you for fun."

"Ah, but you admit you toyed with me?" he answered, lips against her shoulder. "Just an insatiable slut who wasn't satisfied with her predicament."

Emma pulled back and slapped him, her eyes red with anger and his face stinging with the force of her hand hitting his face. "Don't you dare!"

"Why not," he answered, stalking forward over the bed as she crawled up against the pillows. "In everything but words I was your whore. And then you dumped me because you were too fucking afraid."

"So what if I was!" she yelled back. "You were too!"

"You have no idea what I was willing to give up for you," he answered angrily, taking the hands that she was trying to push him off with and putting them above her head. He pinned them there with his hook as he covered her body with his own. "I would've stayed, had you taken your head out of your ass for one fucking minute and realised that maybe, someone other than your pining first mate, could actually care for you."

"Your current situation isn't lending regret to my mind, Hook," Emma answered shortly in response. "You'd be in Davy Jones locker the second you treated me like this."

"You made me this way, darling," he answered with a cold grin, pressing his hardness into her. "And since I'm not your prisoner anymore." He sunk into her once again, using his free hand to tracing along her leg before pulling it up to hook around his hip. He went deeper, and faster and despite her misgivings, Emma felt herself spiralling towards her climax once more.

"You'll get what you want, love," he hissed, "You'll get a goodbye. I'll never see you again."

_That's not what I want._

"I want you to help me take revenge on Rumplestiltskin."

"I have no interest," he grunted, pulling his hook from its clasp on her hands, "In working with you."

"I'll pay you," Emma answered, her free hands travelling up his chest to latch around his neck. She forced him to look her in the eyes. "Anything you want."

"What I want, you can't give, Swan," he hissed. And Emma saw, for a moment, the sorrow in his dark eyes. She was right. She couldn't erase the last four years. Because quite plainly, events had unfurled that had driven Killian Jones into the depths of darkness.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her hand brushing his cheek. He faltered at the sincerity in her voice. She knew that there was water gracing her eyes and she could almost swear she heard him mumur, "Thank you," before he was pushing into her once again, his hips stuttering as he ventured closer to oblivion. He came with a final growl, hook hitting the pillow beside her head as she arched her back into him, pulling him infinitely close as they came apart.

"I want you," he whispered finally, still inside of her.

"What?" she breathed in confusion, still trying to catch her breath.

"I want you as payment."

"I can't," Emma's eyes were frantic as she registered his words. "I can't just…my ship…my crew…"

"They're loyal to you, Swan," he answered, "Then again, they're also not my problem. You want my help? You pay the price."

She was quiet for a few moments. Her ship could trail behind, she just wouldn't be on it. It wouldn't be so bad. She could pass it off to her crew as diplomacy so they wouldn't mutiny. Graham in charge and keeping her safe…it would be okay…

She had to have Henry.

"Okay," she whispered finally. "But just for the duration of our venture. And you have to promise."

"On my honour," he answered with a grin as he pulled out of her.

"Honour," she scoffed.

He looked at her strangely, "Amongst thieves there is more honour than the realms of nobility."

And thinking of the nobility; the family that had long since abandoned her, Emma couldn't help but agree.

She tucked her knees up to her chin as she watched him pulling his pants back on and letting herself appreciate the amazing things they did for his physique. Emma congratulated herself on introducing leather to him.

"You're coming with me," he pointed out when he didn't hear her move.

"You ripped my corset," she stated matter-of-factly. A fond glimpse of the garment made his lips quirk upwards

"So I did," he answered. "Put the dress on, I'll give you my jacket."

Emma set about her work quietly, noticing the constant trail of Hook's eyes upon her. She slipped her dress over herself and pulled her boots on quickly. Without underpants she felt extremely bare. He was behind her when she turned around, startling her with his proximity.

"Don't surrender to me, Swan," Hook muttered firmly, tilting her head up with his hook. "You are fire."

"I won't," she answered strongly, pulling away to grab his jacket off the floor and spin it around her shoulders. But her usual fierceness had fled her the moment she came face to face with him again. And she knew why; she'd never tell him. But she knew why.

"I sleep with one eye open," she warned him, and he laughed as he followed her out the door. She heard him muttering smugly:

"Not if I tire you out with other activities first."


	11. But golden fields lie out before me

"WHAT?!"

"Keep it down, Graham!" Emma frowned. "I want you behind me every step of the way. But I need his help. He's the only pirate out there as good as me."

"We can do this another way…"

"No," Emma sighed, grabbing her now full canvas bag. "We can't. Keep the men in check. Tell them I'm on a diplomacy mission."

"And what do I tell her?"

"The same," Emma answered with a shrug. "She won't know what it means, but we have to tell her something…"

Just as she was finishing her sentence, she saw the person they were discussing in the doorway. Her small hands clutched the doorframe as she stared up at Emma and Graham.

"Emma?" her small mouth formed her name and Emma felt her heart crumbling. This was her one misgiving, leaving behind the little one, but she knew Graham would look after her.

"Hey Scarlet," Emma murmured, walking over to kneel in front of her. The little girl looked up at her with her wide green eyes, a pouting face and pleading wobble of her lip. "I'm going away for a while."

"How long?"

"A week, maybe?" Emma tried, being honest.

"A week?" Emma could feel the tears coming on and quickly pulled the four year old into a hug. She rubbed her hand soothingly up and down her back before pulling away and promising, "I'll be back as soon as possible, okay?"

The little girl seemed to consider it for a few moments before nodding. "Okay."

"I love you," Emma reminded her, kissing her nose softly before Scarlet threw her arms up around Emma again and answered, "Love you too."

Standing up, Graham came and took Scarlet's hand, walking with Emma up onto the deck. Emma sighed as she left the ship, glancing back to see Scarlet waving at her with her small hand. Emma smiled sadly before heading along the docks to where the Jolly Roger was docked.

"Ready to set sail, Captain Swan?" Hook smirked, throwing her own words back at her. She rolled her eyes before walking past him with a roll of her eyes. A few members of the crew through her appreciative looks, but she ignored them all. Back in her normal clothes, she drew attention. Although, significantly less than she had, heading into the tavern.

Killian's ship was smaller than hers, built much more like a navy ship than something designed for war. It was a ship designed for speed; flight not fight. Which meant that its crew had to be very capable for the ship to have survived this long.

When she climbed down the ladder into his quarters, she almost laughed aloud at how tiny they were. There was a cramped bed and table and a bookshelf but little else.

"I see you've found your new home already, love," Killian said, coming down the ladder after her.

"It's tiny," she said drily, going to go and sit on the table. She leant back and crossed her right leg over her left, leaning back on her palms as she watched him advance.

"That's not something I hear every day," he answered, stalking closer. When he reached her, he tried to pull her knees apart and step between them, but Emma kept her legs tucked closely together and her arms folded, staring him down.

"Now, now, Swan," he said with a lascivious grin. "I'm fairly certain you haven't developed amnesia in the past half hour."

"I wouldn't be so certain," she answered strongly and without any hint of bending to his wishes. He gave her a – quite frankly,  _adorable_  – pout before acquiescing and moving to take a seat. "Very well then, are we going to play chess for the next week?"

"Whilst I'm not particularly adverse to the idea of beating your ass back to where it belongs," Emma began as she gazed through his piercingly blue eyes, "I'm here for one thing and one thing only -"

"Captain, dawn's approaching and you said you wanted to cast off!" A dark mop of hair was poking down into the room.

"Aye, good lad, Chip, I'll be right up."

Emma frowned as Hook got up, "He seems a bit young."

He quirked an eyebrow at her and she immediately remembered when he'd asked her the exact same question.

"I thought the pirate's life didn't have an age, Swan?" he retorted heavily before beginning to climb the ladder. "The boy's fifteen by the way. If you want to know his story, bloody well ask him yourself."

The hatch closed behind him, and Emma was left with candlelight and the soft glow of dawn glinting through the windows. Beyond them, she could barely make out the image of the Wandering Lady. And knowing she wouldn't be seeing the Captain for a while, and feeling the effects of almost 24 hours on her feet, she slipped out of her shoes and corset, and curled up on his single bed. Then and there, she decided that the next port they stopped in, they were getting him a bigger bed.

But even as she tried to distract herself with menial things, she realised there was no escaping the fact that the sheets smelt so warmly of him.

And something in the corner of her heart longed for it always.

* * *

 

Killian was up on deck for most of the day, going over the itinerary that Smee had managed to wheedle out of Blackbeard whilst he was busy with Emma the previous night. Apparently, there were some massive things going on with Queen Regina's attacks on the Western Border, so that would be a hotspot for Dark One Activity. It was the eighteenth birthday of Ella and Thomas' third child, so he would be sure to make an appearance there. Not to mention the anniversary of the missing Princess of King David and Queen Snow White, but that didn't seem like such a big deal.

Killian had always found it fascinating that it was all so hush hush. Many times he'd often just thought that the Princess was perhaps very sick, or reclusive, that no one had seen her in almost sixteen years. But perhaps she'd passed away. From what the King and Queen appeared to be, surely they would be searching for their daughter if she was alive?

It was around that time that Emma decided to show her face on deck. Immediately, every man above the age of seventeen turned their head. Hook scowled. He should've ordered her to stay in the cabin. Distraction on his ship simply wouldn't do.

He also didn't trust a lot of his crew. The ex-navy men, sure, he trusted them. They knew the same good form he did. The men he'd picked up along the way though, they had to be taught. And some had caught on quicker than others.

Some, like the young man cleaning the guns, would need another lesson.

"Jameson!" Hook yelled. "Tongue back behind your teeth before I cut it off."

The young man jumped before bending his head to get back to work. Hook sighed as he walked towards Emma, growling, "You shouldn't be up here."

"I can take care of myself," she shrugged. It was only then that Hook realised he hadn't taken her weapons away from her. Holding his hand out expectantly, he waited for Emma to pass over her sword. She merely looked at him as though he had a second head.

"Are you serious?"

"You backing out on our deal?"

"We've yet to fully outline the details," Emma pointed out. "I can't just go unarmed. I don't trust your crew."

"And I don't trust you, darling," Killian answered, before giving a sigh and reaching for her belt buckle. "You, Swan, need to realise this isn't your ship. This is my territory and I'm the Captain."

"Bet you like that don't you," she hissed as he pulled her belt off. "  _'Captain'."_

"Ooh, say it again, love," he smirked, "Shivers."

"I will fucking destroy you."

"Maybe you will," Killian shrugged offhandedly before walking past her and back to his cabin. "But not with this."

Emma narrowed her eyes and stalked after him down the ladder. He'd hidden it by the time she arrived and was already leaning up against his table.

"So," Emma began, leaning back against the ladder. "What's our heading?"

He cocked his head at her, trying to figure out what was going on in her head.

"Kiss me."

Emma sighed in frustration before closing the space and placing a short peck on his lips and pulling back.

"What are you, my grandmother?" Killian asked playfully before reaching out his arm and pulling her back into him. Her breasts collided with his chests and he breathed out in appreciation. Her green eyes lowered to his lips before up to his eyes. "Kiss me, Swan."

"Or what?"

Killian shrugged. Whatever happened, he wouldn't force himself on her if she genuinely didn't want it. He was still relatively sated after last night. Although, judging by the black lust in Emma's eyes, she wasn't.

"Or nothing," he answered honestly, wetting his lower lip as he did so and watching her eyes blink quickly. Her hands were tracing the collar of his shirt and the next second, she was tugging him to her by his necklace and their lips collided. Her tongue slipped against his teeth and into his mouth, battling for power as her hands tightened on his collar.

When she finally pulled away, Killian was left with her taste on his tongue, breathing heavily.

"I hope your grandmother doesn't kiss like that," Emma smirked.

"Wouldn't know," he answered, a little dazed. "Never met her."

Something flashed in Emma's eyes. But the pity he may have expected wasn't there. It looked a little like sorrow…and fear…

Was her grandmother such a sore spot?

"The Dark One," she interrupted, closing off her thoughts to him. "Did Blackbeard come through with his knowledge?"

"Yes," Killian managed, blinking away the remnants of her kiss. Gods, her very presence was distracting. "The Dark One isn't going to be in his castle from Friday onwards we're hoping. Unless….you were hoping to run into him…"

"No," she said quickly. "No, I just want the dagger."

"We're of a like mind then, love," Killian grinned. "Now, I've got some maps and a cloaking spell. I called in a favour from a fairy I met a few years ago. Long story," he added when he saw Emma's curious face. Good old, Tinkerbell. "But we'll get in. Get the dagger. Get out. Control the Dark One. And I'll kill hi-"

"No!" Emma yelped, her hand coming to rest on his chest as if to stop him from moving. "No. You can't kill him."

"Er, Swan," he scoffed, pushing her hand away, "I've been looking for this man for many years and he is not going to survive –"

And then she said the one word that made everything stop.

"Henry."

Killian let the information sink in before speaking once again. "The Dark One has your son."

"He's had him for the last eight years. I can't leave him a moment longer." Her eyes were downcast and Killian found himself wanted to reach out and comfort her. Just like he had the last time they'd spoken of her son.

But he wasn't that person anymore.

"You'll get your boy back, Swan," he said abruptly. "I want you to know that."

"Thank you," she said with a soft smile. And with that smile came back memories.

Gods, he'd asked her for payment. That thing about debts. That was the work of the Dark One – he always said that magic came with a price – cackled it, really. Rumplestiltskin had screwed Emma over. Badly.

And now Killian was doing the same.

"You should, erm, stay down here. I'll have Chip bring you down some food."

Her brow furrowed, "You don't want to…"

"I'll be back later," he shrugged, fully intending to  _not_  be. He was already inwardly cursing himself over his mistake. But why the fuck did he care? He shouldn't.  _She_ 'd abandoned  _him._

And yet he couldn't bring himself to take her as he had last night. He shouldn't have done that. And he wasn't going to do it again.

"Okay," Emma whispered. He took one last glimpse of her at the top of the hatch before shutting it. But her wide and surprised green eyes haunted him for the rest of the day.


	12. Where the redeemed shall ever sleep

Emma looked up from the book she was reading – and no, it wasn't a romance novel; it seemed Hook had moved beyond those – only to find that the young boy from earlier was peeking down the hatch.

"Hey Miss," he said pleasantly. "I've got some food for you."

He didn't wait for her response as he climbed down the ladder, a tray with some bread and cheese and fruit on it. "Thank you…" she began.

"Chip," he finished with a toothy grin. He had a boyish face. Gods, he was so young. She couldn't believe Locksley had ever been that young.

"Thank you, Chip," Emma said politely, "But I'm afraid I'm not hungry."

"You have to eat, Miss!" he continued passionately. "It won't do to be starving when we're heading off to the Dark One's castle. There are many a dangerous port between here and there, milady. You'll be needing your strength."

Emma's brow furrowed at the way the boy spoke. His 'Miss' and 'Milady'.

"You do realise that I'm no lady," she replied. "I'm the Captain of the Wandering Lady."

"A wandering lady yourself, then," he answered knowingly, "And since I can't call you Captain on this ship, to most of us, you are the Lady Swan."

"Or just the wench here to warm the Captain's bed," Emma muttered under her breath.

"I know that's not true, miss," Chip answered, his permanent faith in his captain evident. "Our Captain thinks more of you than that. You can see it in the way he treats you….the way he begs us treat you. He deems you his equal."

Emma scoffed, "Maybe you should remind  _him_  of that, instead of him keeping me cooped up like a child."

"He's keeping you safe, milady," Chip answered, pouring her a cup of water as he stood there. "Some men on board aren't as self-controlled as our captain. It's happened before…"

"He's taken women before?" Emma asked, trying to hide the sadness from her voice. For some reason she'd expected, maybe even hoped, that he'd been like her. That it would be impossible to love another.

But Captain Hook gave love to everyone.

Or some weird twisted version of it anyway.

Chip nodded in affirmation and she sighed.

"So, what's your story then, Chip," Emma began, reaching for a piece of bread and offering him the rest of the plate. He pulled up a chair and sat across the table from her.

"Mine?" he affirmed, leaning easily into the seat. "Well," he shrugged. "I guess it was kind of…either I stayed in the hellhole I was in, or I got out of there. I mean, it was only a year ago, but here on this ship? I really can't imagine a better lif–"

"Chip!" Hook's voice came thundering. "What the bloody hell are you doing down there! You're on deck, not babysitting duty."

"Sorry, Captain," Chip cried, jumping up. He ducked his head politely at Emma, "Sorry Miss, duty calls."

"Have a good day," She smiled. The boy was so innocent. But he was well-mannered and loyal. She was glad Hook had found him. Maybe it would remind him…

_Stop hoping._

"Well, Swan," Hook began as he wearily climbed down the ladder at dusk. "I trust your day has been as boring as mine?"

"Decidedly more," she answered honestly, putting down the adventure tale she was reading. "At least you got to see the sun for more than a minute."

"Now now, Swan," he grinned, moving to his cupboard where Emma was delighted to spot a large bottle of rum. A slow smile spread across her face when he brought out two cups. "Drink?"

"Does the question need asking?" she answered. Wait. Was there…was there a hint of  _flirting_  in her voice. What was she…

Maybe the drink wasn't such a good idea after all if she was already heading down the wrong road. But when she saw the amber liquid sitting there, as a force of habit, she raised it to her lips and took a sip.

Killian walked around for a few moments, tidying up. Emma watched him every moment. When he bent over and showed her his fine form she found herself grinning with memories, not of the other night, but of more loving times.

"What's up with you?" His voice broke her out of her reverie as he took Chip's seat from earlier. She was still smiling like an idiot as she replied, "Nothing. Food?"

"Chip's going to bring some up when it's ready," Hook answered, a smirk playing at his lips as though he couldn't help the next words that came out of his mouth, "I suppose you're quite hungry then, Swan, being cooped up all day."

Emma scoffed inwardly, but continued to play along anyway.

"Oh, I am," she answered, biting down on her lower lip as she pulled her body backwards to stretch out her back. "I'm simply starved. All that's keeping me from ravaging your galley is the fact that I have no weapon. And you know how good I am with a sword."

_That's right. Two could play at his game._

His mouth almost dropped open at her words.

"Yes, you'd have your way in a second," he finally managed.

She smirked just as a soft knock came down the ladder. "Captain! I've got your food."

"Thanks, Chip," Killian said with a grin as he peeked out the hatch. "Go grab something to eat. You're going to stay up with Smee tonight. He's going to give you a lesson in charting stars."

"Awesome!" Chip grinned before practically running off, his soft footfalls echoing through the night. Emma watched the exchange thoughtfully before Hook spun around and placed the plates in front of her. Mutton and beans. Not the best, but still. Food.

"Chip says he's been sailing with you a year," Emma began hesitantly, curiosity about Hook's past making it's way to the surface.

"Aye," Jones answered, "And an adventurous year it's been. We've done some damage to Regina's navy, disrupted quite a few trade routes in and out of the kingdom. All in all, the boys had a fairly good introduction to the world."

"And you don't feel guilty about it?" Emma enquired. She knew she did. Guilt gnawed at her insides every day when she thought of bringing up Scarlet in this life. But it was all she had.

"How can I?" Killian shrugged indifferently. "The boy chose to come with me from that realm and he refuses to leave. He'll make a good Captain one day, should he stick around."

"Should he survive," Emma interjected, her eyes returning to her untouched food.

"Oh no," Killian replied, putting a forkful of beans in his mouth. "If there's anything I know about Chip, it's that after the life he's led, he's got a knack for survival."

Emma frowned, "He didn't make it sound like that…"

Killian brows rose, realising that he'd evidently said to much, "Apologies, Swan, but it's not my story to tell."

"And what about yours, Captain?" she answered, leaning back in her hard backed chair. "You have control over your past. You're at liberty to discuss it."

"We're in a transaction for a week, Swan," he answered sharply, blue eyes glinting and steely. "That doesn't involve my life's story."

"I don't want your life's story," she answered simply. "I want what happened when I left."

"No, you don't," Killian answered with a sigh.

"I do–"

"You don't," he cut off abruptly, looking up at her with harshness in his eyes. "If you're not going to eat, then don't fill pleasant silence with useless interrogation."

She did want to know.

But he didn't want to remember.

And for that very reason, she knew that she had to make him tell her his story.

* * *

 

Emma was lying in his bed, watching him looking over his maps with a serious look in his eyes. Eyes that were slowly drooping and very obviously tired. Her mouth shaped an 'o' of surprise when she realised he hadn't slept last night. Gods knew how long he'd been awake for.

"Hook," she finally murmured, "You should sleep."

"The bed's not big enough-"

"I'm cold," Emma lied turning over so that her back was facing him. She wasn't willing to admit that now that she had him so close, she didn't want to spend the night breathing in his scent and not being able to know he was there.

"I have more blankets…"

He was hesitant; his voice a little shaky.

"Come to bed, Jones," Emma almost ordered with a slightly weary tone to her voice. After another moment's silence, she heard him padding over the floor and kicking his boots off. The sound of his tunic went next, and then the soft falls of his shirt.

He kept his pants on.

He really was trying to be a gentlemen, Emma thought in appreciation, affection rushing through her as he climbed into the bed cautiously behind her. She shifted her body to make room before moulding herself against him. His chest hair rubbed through the soft cotton of her shirt and she smiled when the warmth of his hands rounded her body to sit just below her breasts.

"Night, Captain Jones," she muttered finally.

"Goodnight, Captain Swan."

* * *

 

_The sun was setting as she steered the Wandering Lady through the multi-coloured sea. The peace of her thoughts was disturbed as a loud laugh came up to her._

_"Killian!" she heard herself yelling, chastising him. "You're meant to be sleeping!"_

_"Blame your daughter," his voice came up through the hatch. "She bloody well needs to learn that daddy doesn't appreciate being tickled on his feet."_

_"Yes you do!" An indignant small voice came up the stairs. "You have to. Mommy does it all the time. So that means you have to love it. And you just made swears. Mommy, daddy has to be punished."_

_"Nerina," Emma warned. The little girl with soft blond curls and bright blue eyes stood at the bottom of the ladder._

_"But mommy," she pouted, but Emma must have given her a stern look because the next second, her small figure was climbing up the ladder. At almost five, she was already tall for her age, too eager to be like her brother and sister._

_"Go and find Scarlet and Henry," Emma ordered her. "I need your brother to tear himself away from his beloved food and take the helm."_

_"I can do that!" Nerina looked elated at the thought._

_"Your brother is 13, Neri," Emma reminded her. "Maybe when you're the same age as Scarlet you can learn…"_

_"But Scarlet's…" Neri thought hard. "Scarlet's…"_

_"Scarlet's 8," Emma reminded her._

_"Yes," Neri answered as though it was obvious before her brow furrowed. "So that's another…3 years!"_

_"Well done," Emma smiled, leaning down to give her a kiss before reminding her, "Now. Go find Henry."_

_Neri sprinted off just as Killian rose, bleary eyed, from his cabin._

_"She gets it from you," Killian murmured, wrapping his two arms with two hands around her. "Bloody terror."_

_"You helped make that bloody terror," Emma answered as he nuzzled into her hair before nipping gently at her ear. "And if you keep going like that, we'll have another little terror to deal with."_

_"Mmm. You aren't giving me much incentive to stop then, love."_

_Emma stopped, thinking over that. "You really want more kids?"_

_"I love our children, Emma."_

_She grinned, "I'm so glad you accepted Henry and Scar. You're an amazing man, Killian Jones."_

_"Keep going, love," he muttered huskily, pressing himself against her."_

_"You're sexy," she whispered, and he kissed her neck, "And loving. And a perfect father. And you're mine."_

_"Aye," he whispered, his hips pushing against hers. "That I am."_

* * *

 

Emma awoke when she heard the soft groaning beside her ear. It took her a moment to shake off the incredulity of her dream and realise that there were sounds and motions surrounding her that were causing a great stirring in her core.

Killian's hips were fluidly thrusting against her backside and the hand that had once lain comfortingly on her stomach, had now crept up her shirt and was kneading at her breast.

"That's it…" he murmured almost incoherently. Emma barely realised she was moving against him. She had no idea how long they'd been doing whatever it was they were doing, but Killian seemed to be enjoying it. Reaching around in curiosity, she felt him hard and straining against his laces.

Of course, she was only thinking of his discomfort when she reached to untie his pants. And then, it was only to stop him from humping her in his sleep that she began to turn over and grasp him in her hand.

She stroked her fingers over him lightly and he shuddered in his sleep. She gave a few light tugs before she found herself on her back, Killian Jones hovering above her, eyes wide with pupils dilated.

"Trying to get me off while I sleep, wench?"

"Jones?" Emma's brow furrowed, breathing heavily. She clenched her thighs tightly together as she realised how aroused she actually was.

"Emma?" He rose from the haze of sleep, eyes widening in shock. "Oh gods, I'm so sorry."

"No."

He scrambled off her, but she wouldn't let him, pushing him back onto his back, surprised they hadn't fallen off the bed yet. She straddled his thighs before pulling her shirt over her head without preamble.

"Swan…we shouldn't…"

"We should," she answered adamantly, leaning down to kiss down his bare chest, pointedly avoiding the intimacy of his lips. He groaned as her hand wrapped around his cock again. She gave him a flirtatious grin as she lowered her lips to wrap around the tip of him, rolling her tongue over his head before slipping down his length to take in as much of him as he could. He seemed at the height of his need; he must have been quite active while he was asleep. His low moans of need spurred her onwards, his good hand coming to rest on her head, threading through her hair gently.

"Fuck, Swan," he groaned as his hips jerked against her. "You're…I'm going to come."

And she sucked him in deep before he shuddered and came down her throat, gripping her hair and breathing out deeply. Emma cleaned him off before climbing up towards him, expecting him to return the favour.

But they were interrupted by an outcry on deck.

"Bloody hell," Killian groaned, giving her an apologetic look before swinging off the bed and doing up his pants. Emma sighed, reaching for her own shirt. She was so hoping…

"Captain!" Smee's voice came down the hatch. "There's a problem I don't know what to do with."

Killian pulled his shirt on before climbing upwards without a second thought. A low exchange took place before Emma heard the high pitched sounds echoing through the night. Sounds of a child.

Sounds of a very familiar child.

"No! Please mister! I didn't mean any harm, I just wanted to –"

"Why is there a child on my ship?" Hook asked aloud to no one in particular.

Emma was climbing up onto the deck without a split second's hesitation.

"Emma!" Scarlet's face broke out into a wide smile when she spotted her. "Uncle Graham said I had to wait a week. But I couldn't. So I did a pirate thing and snuck on board before the ship left. I stowed away

"Swan?" Killian asked in curious astonishment, "This child is yours?"

" _Not_  in the way you're thinking," Emma answered, rolling her eyes before leaning down to take Scarlet in her arms. "But yes. She's under my care."

"I can't have a child on my ship," he answered quickly, "That wasn't part of the deal."

"I'll take care of her," Emma answered, not knowing any other alternative. They couldn't pull up aside her ship and drop her off again. Scarlet quite obviously wouldn't stay put.

"There's no room for her here, Swan," Killian replied.

"Then…" She thought carefully. There was no option except…

"If we go back to my ship, you can…Captain her, for this week."

"You'll let me lead your ship?"

"Aye," Emma answered. And knowing exactly the amount of pride she was giving up by offering that, Killian knew he couldn't reject it. It was like rejecting a phenomenal gift.

"Okay," Killian nodded, turning to Smee. "Weigh anchor and furl the sails."

"Why?" Emma inquired as Scarlet absently played with her hair.

"We're going to wait for your boyfriend to catch up, Swan," Killian answered, a sparkle in his eye. "Then I'm taking you home."


	13. I am a poor pilgrim of sorrow

"What, of everything that could ever go wrong upon the seven seas, is he doing on board this ship?" Graham was livid as Emma followed Killian across the gangplank, Scarlet clutch carefully to her chest.

"Keep your panties on, Humbert," Killian answered, "I know I'm devilishly handsome but I don't fancy you."

Graham's face slowly turned a deeper shade of red as he stared at Killian with pure and utter loathing. His fists clenched, turning his hands an unearthly shade of white before Emma placed Scarlet back on the ground and placed her hand softly on Graham's.

"I need you to step down for a week, Grae."

"What."

His tone was dangerous.

"This is for Scarlet," Emma said softly, "I don't want her coming after me and I have to stay with him so he has to take control of the ship."

"I suppose you want his crew to swarm us too then?"

"Just me, mate," Killian interjected. "I'm enough for this Wandering Lady to handle."

Emma almost choked on her tongue as he shot her a wink and Graham looked as though he desperately needed to throttle something or someone – preferably Hook.

"Bed time, Scarlet," Emma ordered as her crew cleared away the gangplank. "Let's get you ready."

"But Emma…"

"No 'but Emma's," she reprimanded, scooping her up. Turning to Killian, she inclined her head, "You know where my cabin is."

Emma turned but before she left, she could swear she heard Killian ask Graham with a smirk in his voice, "So, do you still sleep next door?"

_If that man was beaten to a pulp, it was his own bloody fault._

* * *

 

Emma heard the sound of Scarlet's whimpering beyond the door after she went to sleep and rolled over with a groan. The young girl had been suffering nightmares lately, waking up in the early morning and crying out for her. Normally Scarlet would crawl into bed with Emma after she'd gone and tried to get her back to sleep unsuccessfully.

It was as she was wrapping her blanket around her and toddling through the sharp air outside of her bed that she heard a soft voice speaking.

"What's wrong, little lady?"

"I had a bad dream," Scarlet answered, her voice wobbling. Emma walked into the room just as she saw Hook drop to his knees next to Scarlet's bed in order to look her in the eye. His hands folded gently in his lap as Scarlet shuffled to the edge of the bed. She let her legs hang off the edge of the bed as she looked up in awe at the eyes of the pirate.

"Can you tell me a story, Captain Hook?" she pleaded with earnest eyes. "Please. I'll go back to sleep and we won't have to wake mommy."

Hook chuckled and Emma felt a wave of affection flood her as she leant into the doorframe. Hook coughed lightly as he settled himself comfortably on the floor.

"I don't particularly know any stories fit for your ears, little lady."

She pouted, her brown eyes shining. "But you must! When I grow up, I want to be just like you! Like Captain Hook!"

Hook chuckled, "No, love. You must keep both of your hands safe. Besides. I don't think you can grow up and be Captain Hook. That's my name."

"No, silly," she laughed softly. "I'll be Captain Scarlet. Red and fearsome."

"Ah, I shouldn't like to get on the bad side of you, Captain Scarlet."

She giggled, a small flush crossing her face.

"A story, Captain Hook," she reminded him. "Please."

"Hmm…." He seemed like he was trying to ignore her, but Emma knew from experience that no one could refuse those pleading eyes.

"Okay. Once upon a time, there was a ship sailing freely across the sea. Upon that ship, there was a young man who believed in honour and good form. One day, his ship hit a large reef, as many do out on the sea, and in the middle of nowhere, his ship began to sink…"

Emma sighed softly and left the room. She didn't need to hear that story. And she knew he wouldn't mention any names so that was okay. He knew how to act around her. Emma knew that much about her old lieutenant.

It was around ten minutes later, when she heard his voice trail off, that she turned to face the door of her cabin. When he reappeared, she murmured.

"Thank you."

Hook looked up in surprise in the dim light, "No problem, lass. I didn't want to wake you."

"You know, you aren't all him."

"Aren't all who, love?"

"Hook," Emma answered, leaning up on her elbows before moving into a seating position. "I see you sometimes." She stood up. She wasn't sure what she was doing. Perhaps it was the rum from earlier, but…

"Swan," he warned as she came closer to him. It was as though he cold feel the tenderness emanating from her. "Don't."

"I  _know_  you," she whispered in the dark, standing before him as she put her hand on his chest, rubbing lightly.

"You  _don't_ ," he answered, trying to evade her. He quickly found his mattress on the floor and sank down onto it. "And I don't know you," he added as he kicked off his boots. But Emma was having none of it, leaning down to kiss him quickly, but somehow, he managed to turn his head, her lips only making contact with his roughened cheek.

She groaned in frustration, her lips tracing along his cheek as she trailed her fingers up his partially open shirt. His muscles were tensing beneath her as she murmured against the corner of his lips, the one word that always broke him.

"Killian."

It was as though he couldn't help it. He turned his head and latched his lips onto hers. Emma groaned in appreciation, grasping at the back of his neck as she shuffled more comfortably into his lap, her legs straddling his as she kissed him passionately.

"Swan, we can't," he murmured, breaking away "Earlier…we shouldn't have…I shouldn't have…"

"Shut up," she whispered, kissing him delicately, but he controlled himself, not letting his lips react to her, and holding his hands by his sides until Emma finally sighed and leant back.

"Why?" she questioned curiously, "And don't you dare tell me it's because I don't want to know. I'm asking because I do…because…" Emma bit down on her lip before continuing softly. "I hate myself for what I did to you."

"What?" Killian's eyes widened in shock. Emma Swan had just revealed herself to him. Even Emma wasn't sure…had she  _ever_ done something like that? Her hands travelled back to his collar, smoothing her hand over his heart.

"Please?" she whispered.

They ended up back on her bed. He was lying against the wall, waiting for her to move back to the bed with something in her hand. She sat down on the blankets finally with her legs crossed.

"What's that?" Killian enquired, gesturing with his hook towards the box in her hand. Emma opened it and he spotted soft blocks of brown inside of it. His mouth widened. "Is that…"

Emma nodded with a soft smile, "We were in Tengal two weeks ago. I've been saving it for a special occasion."

"I feel privileged to be sharing your chocolate, Swan," he grinned as she offered it to him. It was a soft grin and she gave him a hesitant one in return.

"You should," she answered, popping a piece into her own mouth. The rich taste flooded Killian's mouth as he bit down, watching the pleasure cross her face. The delicacy of chocolate could almost be as good as sex.

"We rejoined the navy," Killian finally said, shuffling against the wall. "Liam and I. Our king didn't seem to mind too much about the crew's loss. He only cared about us. To be honest, I should have known something was wrong at that point. What kind of man doesn't care that thirty men either died or turned pirate?"

"If it's any consolation," Emma returned, "Many of your men jumped ship at the next port."

"I care not," Killian shrugged, and yet a certain sense of pride filled him when he heard that. Along with the foul taste of hypocrisy. "Our king sent us on a mission, to retrieve a certain healing plant. For this, we required cross realm travel."

"Neverland," he continued bitterly. "The despicable child Peter Pan tricked us. Liam…he was being the stupid stubborn ass he usually was and tried to prove a point. And for that..."

He breathed deeply before continuing.

"The healing plant was a deadly poison. I detested our king, because soon after that, Liam and I came to the realisation that he had been working with the Evil Queen."

Emma flinched. He saw her reaction. He didn't call her out on it.

"So we used the Pegasus sail we'd used to get there in order to sail out of Neverland. Except, the minute we were out of the world and in the air, Liam…well…"

Emma sighed, her hand on his arm understandingly.

"I'm sorry."

"Doesn't matter," he shrugged, looking down, "Turns out we were in the wrong world anyway. Since then, Smee's learnt how to read the stars better, but we didn't end up back in the Enchanted Forest. We were in a strange world, a world that we soon learnt, had no magic."

"We tried to blend in, I searched high and low for a magic bean, but, we were there for months and I was starting to lose hope. Actually, I was starting to think I would be able to start again there. It was easy," he shrugged. "Without Liam, I didn't really have anything to come back to."

"It's more than that," Emma frowned, looking at him. "It's almost as though..." Her brow furrowed before realisation dawned. "You did, didn't you! You found a woman."

Killian heard the twinge of sadness in her voice and he frowned, "Yes, I did. Not that it matters to you."

"It does," Emma murmured sadly.

"Her name was Milah," Killian answered slowly, "She was older, well accustomed to that world. But she was from our world and she had a great love of adventure and freedom and the sea. So, I took her on."

"You mean you slept with her," Emma answered sharply.

"No bitterness, Swan," Killian sighed, looking up at Emma harshly. "You don't get to be bitter after what you did."

"You're right," she answered, looking down, "Sorry. Continue."

"She helped me. Promised to find me a magic bean. It took almost a year, but finally, we did. I found Chip about the same time," he shrugged. "Kid had been living on the streets, saw the ship and he too thought it was an adventurous life so I brought him with us."

"Of course," Killian sighed, and Emma noticed that his hand was shaking as he clasped and unclasped it in the sheets. "It didn't last. The moment we were back on our home seas, we were happy. She was…happy…"

Killian trailed off, his voice shaky.

Emma didn't want to make him relive his memories, and she didn't expect him to continue. She put aside her box and shuffled closer to him. He was cold. For the first time ever, his body was cold. Emma tucked her head under his chin and threaded an arms around his waist. He was still for a moment before also holding her closer. It was only then that Emma saw the tattoo on his forearm.

"You loved her." Emma wasn't surprised by that. If there was one thing she knew about Killian Jones it was that he felt quite deeply. Even when she couldn't.

"I did," he whispered, his voice pained.

"I'm sorry," Emma murmured, turning into his chest.

He was silent for a moment before saying, "Time moves differently in other lands. When she'd first escaped to the land without magic, it was almost three hundred years ago in this world. And when she came back, she thought her husband would be long dead. But he found a way to live for power. He is the Dark One. And he found her. And he ripped the heart from her chest. He took my hand. Then he was gone, but so was she."

"Killian, that's horrible…" Emma's eyes were wide with the new knowledge.

"And that, love," he finished finally, "That's what turned me pirate. A thorough sense of revenge and a need to forget myself with freedom, women, drink and treasure."

"You're still not all him," Emma murmured. "Only a good man could put Scarlet to sleep with only a story."

"I'm not, Emma." Looking upwards, she saw a semblance of water in his eyes. "I've killed and I've stolen; I'm a pirate."

"So am I." Her eyes locked on his. "But one word doesn't define us."

They pondered those words for a moment before Emma felt Killian's lips make contact with her forehead. "I'm glad you think that, Swan."

"Let's get some sleep," she finally murmured. "Dawn will be here in a few hours."

Killian moved to shuffle off the bed, but Emma dragged him down with her, forcing him to stay. Wordlessly, she pulled the covers up over them and laid down facing him. She threw a hand over his waist as he pressed against his chest, her head tucked against him as he grew in warmth once more.

"Thank you," she said through the darkness, the soft moonlight illuminating their shadows. "For telling me…"

"Get some sleep, Emma," he answered tiredly. "We'll talk more in the morning."

And with that promise in the air, she fell asleep with a smile gracing her face.


	14. I'm tossed in this wide world alone

Emma awoke to the spluttering sound of Killian Jones choking on her hair. She pulled away from him sharply, untangling her hands from around his waist only to find that his hook was latched in her shirt and with one sharp tug, a great tear was pulled through it.

"Hook!" she cried out in annoyance before seeing the way he was wiping his tongue on her pillow to try and get her hair out of his mouth. Before she knew it, she was laughing at the absurdity of it and he was death glaring her with a foul expression.

"Next time you decide to kill me, lass," he answered, "Do it with something far quicker than your golden locks."

Emma tried not to blush when he described her hair. She really did, but in the end, she just turned around and looked down at her shirt in regret. A wave of sadness hit her when she realised what shirt she was wearing, and pulled it over her head with a sigh.

"No use in keeping that, love," Killian called after her as she folded it neatly and put it with her other washing. "Unless you like patchwork."

"Maybe, I do," she answered softly before moving across the room to grab a clean shirt from her cupboard, uncaring as to the fact that she was bare from her hips up.

She was pulling on her shirt as he treaded carefully over to the chair with the piled clothes. Emma didn't see his hesitant expression as he lifted the material carefully but she did notice when she turned around and he was clutching the material in both his hands. Hands that was shaking with supressed anger.

"What gives you the right?" he hissed.

Emma's eyes widened. Whatever she'd been expecting his reaction to be, it definitely wasn't angry. She thought, maybe, he'd find it endearing or…

"How dare you keep this and wear it and flaunt it before me?!" Killian hissed, advancing towards her, waving his naval shirt before her. "Just a souvenir of one of your conquests, right? Adding it to the pile."

"Killian, I didn't…" She'd worn his shirt every night after he'd left. Afraid that if she let it go, she'd let him go, and have to forget love all over again. And the feeling was too good to let go.

Yes, it was love.

She'd realised that many years ago, but the man before her couldn't. Because of what she'd done, he could never love her.

"I'm going to the helm," he spat finally, "Don't follow me."

And frozen to the spot, Emma didn't.

* * *

 

"I like him."

"Who, honey?" Emma was spooning porridge into a bowl for Scarlet watching her eager eyes looking at the food.

"Mr. Hook," she answered. "He's a good storyteller."

Of course, to a four year old, that was the only criteria one had to meet.

"Eat up so that you can go see Graham outside," Emma answered, diverting the girl from Hook. That only made her gulp down her food before basically running up the stairs.

"Aren't you coming, Emma?" Scarlet asked as Emma hesitated. When had she become afraid of Killian Jones. Suddenly she couldn't bear the thought of him hating her.

"You can come up, Swan," Killian's voice came across the ship from a distance and Emma found a soft smile gracing her face. As she headed up to the helm, Killian avoided looking at her.

"I'm sorry," he said suddenly, "About this morning."

"It's fine," Emma answered with a shrug. He'd calmed down in only an hour. For some reason, that gave her hope.

"So, where did little Scarlet come from then," Hook asked, watching the little girl walking across the deck to go and loosen some tangles in the rope.

"She's a stray," Emma said softly, not too sure that she wanted to get into it with him. But with a soft frown, she realised he had told her his entire story and maybe, just maybe, it was time she started giving him a little of hers.

"Well, her mother, was a close friend of mine," Emma began slowly, "She ran an inn in my hometown and I visited her many times a year. But a couple of years ago, I went only to find that, rather than being alive and thriving as she should be, the inn was boarded up, and she and her husband had been murdered."

Killian's eyes were wide and shocked.

"But Scarlet…"

"Was hiding in a cupboard under the kitchen sink when I found her," Emma whispered. "I dread to think, if I had delayed a few more days…"

"As it was, she was sickly and deathly pale," Emma whispered, clutching her arms to her body as though she herself were freezing and numb. "I couldn't leave her…she didn't understand. She recognised me, but she didn't understand why she wouldn't see her mother and father again."

Emma left out the part about how she found a note written in crimson ink pinned to the doorway.

_…I will find you, Princess. If it is the last thing I do._

They had died because they befriended her. And Regina – always Regina – had found out. Still, after all these years, she still sought her revenge.

"Over time, she stopped asking. I think, in a way, she thinks that Graham and I have kind of replaced them. Which is never something I wanted," Emma sighed, "But I have nothing to give her. Nothing for her to be reminded of other than her own reflection."

"You did well by her, Swan," Hook commented. "It's better than can be said for some."

Emma frowned, "You never did tell me who you were before you were the lieutenant."

"You never told me who you were before you were a Captain," he retorted, but there was a playful edge to his voice. Finally he said, "She calls you her mother when she's talking about you."

"Who?" Emma asked distractedly, watching carefully as Scarlet balanced herself on one foot on top of a plank of spare wood. "Oh, Scarlet? Really?" She'd never called her mom directly before.

"She did, last night," Hook affirmed. "She's a little swindler that one."

"Aye, she is," Emma smiled, before asking a question that has plagued her mind. "How did you end the story last night, Jones?"

"You know what," he replied quickly, averting his gaze to the floorboards, "Why don't you take the wheel, I'm going to go grab a bite to eat."

"Jones," she said slowly, before reaching out to touch his retreating arm gently, "Killian."

He hesitated a moment before letting his blue eyes rise to meet hers. "Hopefully," he finally said. "I ended it with hope."

* * *

 

"Cerulean," Emma said later that say as she nursed a small cut on Scarlet's shin. "My favourite colour. It's cerulean."

She didn't mention that it wasn't because of the sea, it was because of his eyes.

* * *

 

"Brown," he said suddenly, hours later when the wind had picked up in the sails and they were leaning against the rails. Her hair was flying out behind her, and she seemed almost free with a soft smile over her face.

"Brown?" she enquired with a scoff.

"It's the colour of chocolate," he shrugged with a grin.

She laughed.

* * *

 

"Swimming," he said as they coiled the rope lying about on deck. "My favourite summertime activity is swimming."

"Horse-riding," she answered, looking up at him with a simple and wistful smile on her face, "It reminds me of home."

* * *

 

"The day I first stole?" Emma asked, checking that was the question he had just said. "I was twelve."

"Six," Killian answered softly, before turning away to look back at his book.

* * *

 

"When you ran away from home?"

Emma thought for only a moment before answering as truthfully as she could, "I didn't run, I was forced out by an attack when I was eleven."

Killian nodded slowly, as though in understanding.

"You?"

"I didn't leave home," he answered simply, picking at the food on his plate, "Home ran away from me."

There was a silence before he finished.

"Seven."

* * *

 

They were in bed, night already half gone, but they'd talked it through, things that may seem insignificant, but were calming to the both of them. Perhaps, there were people behind those walls that they built to protect themselves.

Hook's shirt was lying on the chair at her table, and Emma was tracing her hands delicately over his back, lining the bones and muscles until something caught her eye in the sparse light.

"What's this?" Emma whispered, running her hands over his bare back and seeing the small dark spot. In curiosity, she turned over and lit the candle by her bed, illuminating the frozen figure of Killian Jones. He was suddenly clutching the sheet, but he didn't move. Even as Emma's heart began to thud uncontrollably in her chest. Even as she ran her fingers over the small, but unmistakeable figure of a swan carved beneath his shoulder blade; behind his heart.

"Emma, I…"

She pulled him over onto his back, pushng herself up to hover over him. "When…"

"After you left me. After I realised I didn't hate you. I got the tattoo. And then it turns out the hatred and bitterness just built. But it was there forever. A permanent mark imprinted on the back of my heart."

"Killian," she whispered, pulling herself to straddle him as she brought her hand up to caress his face.

"We've changed, Emma," he whispered sadly. "Where you've grown in goodness and love, I've only become black and cruel. I can't be the man you stole away for a week all those years ago."

Emma laid a soft kiss on his forehead, her lips trailing down his nose until they reached his lips. "I'm sorry," she murmured before she took his lips in hers and tentatively kissed him.

"For what?" Killian's brow furrowed, leaning away, into the pillow.

"For taking you, for leaving you," she whispered, searching his eyes for a sign that she was forgiven, but his eyes were dark, his lips pursed as she bend to trace her lips along his jaw.

"I have never had conquests," she murmured travelling down his neck, referencing the words he'd yelled in anger this morning. "Only you. And you know…" Emma stopped before she murmured, like a pressure valve releasing, "You know you were more to me than that."

"Emma," he whispered, his hand coming up to caress her face, his face was melting, she could see it. "We can't…"

"You're wrong," she answered adamantly, kissing him once again. "We  _can._ "

"We're going to leave each other again," he murmured against her lips. "And what happens then?"

"Don't leave," she answered simply, a hopeful gleam in her green eyes. "That's how you wanted the story to end, isn't it? You wanted me to let you in and let you stay. I will. I will let you stay."

"I don't trust you, Swan," he whispered.

"I'll earn it," she promised. "I'll earn it because I… I  _want_  you to stay with me."

* * *

 

He'd almost heard her say them. Those three words that he would give the world for her to say.

_I love you._

And despite the fact that she couldn't say them, she was willing to let him stay, and that spoke so much more. She wanted more than one night where they made love, she wanted more. She wanted…

"My ship," he whispered, "My crew."

"I wouldn't take that away from you," she answered, her lips tracing a soft line of fire down his bare chest. It took a few moments for her words to register. And with them, he shot up, almost throwing her off him. She resettled herself in his lap with a frown.

"You would come with me?"

"You don't need to have such a hissy fit about it," Emma scolded, threading her hands up behind his neck. "But yes," a soft smile crept onto her voice. "Me and Scarlet, and Henry…if you'll have us."

"Is this a dream, Swan?" His hands settled on her hips, moving under her shirt to feel the soft skin of her waist up to her breasts until she was lifting her arms up so he could toss it to the floor. Her body before him, her eyes open, her walls down, inviting him in; he couldn't deny that it was something he'd dreamed about many times. He was reluctant to believe it was real.

"Does this feel like a dream?" she grinned impishly as she reached down to tug at the laces of his pants, brushing over the growing bulge in his pants. When she had the laces undone, she began to pull his pants down over his erection and smiled genuinely when he began to undo hers as well, pulling them off along with her panties until they were both naked against each other, Emma once again straddling his hips.

She seemed to look at him hesitantly before seeing the blatant feeling in his eyes and letting it sink into her as she sank onto him. She let out a whimper as she felt him stretching her. She placed her hands on his shoulders, kneading them as she rolled her hips over him. He saw the way she was taking such care and felt warmth flood his veins. Her words from before, and her actions, they were almost overwhelming.

In a fluid movement, Killian had her on her back without pulling from her. He hovered over her, her hair fanned out on the pillow as she looked up at him with flushed lips and wide green eyes.

"Are you going to throw me from your bed if I say it?" Killian enquired softly as he began to move once more. Her eyes closed in pleasure as she reached to clutch onto his back, scrabbling for purchase, with her soft moans meeting his ears. Amongst the innate babbling he heard two words.

"I won't."

And he almost laughed in relief. Who was this woman who he had come to know? Captain Swan. Emma. His Swan.

"I love you," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her neck, he tugged on her earlobe as his hand sought the nub of pleasure where they were joined. He whispered into her ear once more, "I love you, Swan."

And she came with a loud cry of relief, and he could swear he almost saw tears escaping the corner of her closed eyes, but then she was tugging him forward and kissing him as he continued to pump his hips into her, coming with praises of her beauty and how much he loved her.

He pulled from her, only to have her wrap herself around him and pull the blanket up over them.

They didn't sleep. Emma seemed content to simply lie in his arms and trace patterns on his chest lovingly, placing butterfly soft kisses on his skin every few moments. And he rubbed her back and kissed her forehead. They murmured reassurances to each other every so often, until finally Emma said with a yawn:

"I need to sleep, but I don't want to."

"Sleep, love," Killian answered gently, "I'll be here when you wake up."

"Promise?" She was already halfway to blissful oblivion.

"Aye," Killian said with a soft smile, "Promise."

* * *

 

Emma grew cold, despite the fact that she was sleeping up against Killian's body heat. It had to be early morning when she got up and found some loose pants and a shirt to keep her warm. Killian stirred and she felt his eyes on the back of her head.

"Here," she said, softly, passing him the only pair of pants she knew would fit him. They were the soft navy pants he'd left with her, and he smiled gratefully at her.

"Thank you," he answered smugly. "I can see why you feel the need to cover up the temptation."

Emma rolled her eyes and began to head back to bed when she heard Scarlet crying next door. She sighed, but got back up anyway, and headed next door. The little girl was already sitting up in her too big bed and waiting for her. She seemed to falter when Emma appeared, and stopped crying almost immediately.

"Where's Captain Hook?" she asked quickly.

Emma gave her a knowing look as she went to kneel by her bedside.

"Did you purposely cry?" Emma asked.

"No," Scarlet answered much too quickly.

"Scarlet," Emma chided. "You need to sleep."

"I woke up and it was dark and I couldn't see and I got scared," she answered simply and Emma couldn't argue with that. She didn't know how much Scarlet remembered about that little place below the sink, but she wouldn't let the little girl suffer alone.

"Come on, I'll stay with you until you go back to sleep."

Scarlet shuffled automatically back to bed but even when Emma shuffled in beside her, she murmured again, "Where's Captain Hook?"

Emma was about to reply with a 'Go to sleep', when Killian's voice rang out softly from the doorway.

"I'm right here, little lady."

Scarlet scrabbled up to look at him as he came over.  _Great. Now she was wide awake._

"A story!"

"No stories tonight, little lady, Emma's right, it's time to sleep."

"Then you have to lay down next to me," she ordered. "Otherwise I won't go to sleep."

Killian's eyebrow raised, but with Emma's head inclination and swift reshuffling, he found himself on the edge of a single bed and Emma smiled with the knowledge that he would most likely fall off during the night. Scarlet was facing Emma, the woman's arm wrapped loosely around her. It surprised Emma how right this felt.

"Night Mommy," Scarlet whispered. "Night Daddy."

And catching sight of his frozen face, mouth open in shock, Emma was too tired to try and talk it out, so she simply moved closer to Scarlet's small form and murmured.

"We'll talk in the morning."

And Killian lay awake contemplating her words until the darkness took him into sleep.


	15. No hope have I for tomorrow

When Emma awoke the next morning, she had a stiff back from not moving, but she was in Scarlet's bed, and for some oddly obscure reason, she was alone. She let her arms stretch out and tried to work the kinks from her neck, but eventually, she was just rolling her shoulders uselessly. She'd have to ask Killian to rub them out later.

 _Killian_.

She let a soft giggle escape her lips when she thought of what had happened last night. Killian had made love to her, and cared for Scarlet and Scarlet had called them…

Oh crap. Was he freaking out? Even she was kind of freaking out.

Emma quickly got out of the bed then, finding the time to be a little after dawn, and followed the sound of voices to the galley. Most of the crew would already be up on the deck, and Emma expected Killian to be steering the ship, but instead, when she walked inside, he was passing some kind of cookie to Scarlet who bit down on it eagerly.

"You could be a cook!" she said with a toothy grin.

"Scarlet," he said softly, a serious edge to his voice, sitting down across from her. "Last night, you called me –"

"Daddy," she finished, looking up from her cookie. "That's what you are, aren't you? You and Mommy sleep in the same bed in the same cabin, and she smiles lots more than she does with Graham. And you tell me stories. That's what Daddies do."

"I suppose," Killian frowned, "But Scarlet, I'm not your father."

"I know that," she said with a roll of her eyes, before scrunching her nose adorably. "I don't remember him. Mommy says he was a doctor – he helped people. But I want to help people upon the sea. I want to help people fight against Regina."

Killian chuckled, "It appears you're in the right place then, little lady."

Emma chose that moment to make her appearance known. Despite the endearing sight before her, she really wanted a cookie.

"Morning," she said to the two of them, requesting quickly, "Cookie?"

Killian laughed, "It's not much, but I was up early and felt like cooking."

"I didn't know you could cook," Emma commented in surprise.

"There are lots of things you don't know about me, love," he answered suggestively, shifting his eyebrows at her. Emma simply shot him an incredulous glance. There was a four year old across the table from them! But as he returned with a full plate of cookies, Scarlet came out with:

"You can kiss, you know."

Emma turned to the little girl in shock. She merely shrugged.

"It's what mommies and daddies do."

"But it's not for little eyes," Emma berated. But before she could say anything else, she felt Killian's roughened jaw brush her skin before his soft lips met her cheek. Emma flushed pink and Killian looked back as Scarlet, "Satisfied, little lass?"

"I'm going to go find Graham," she said with a wide grin, scampering off, singing at the top of her lungs.

"Not too loud! Some of the crew are still sleeping!"

Killian chuckled before slinking his arm around her waist and pulling her in close. "Now we can do those things not meant for little eyes," he said huskily, nuzzling his face into her hair before beginning to trail his lips down the side of her face.

"Mmm," Emma murmured, his eyes falling shut. With her hands sneaking over his shoulders, she sighed in contentment. "This is nice."

"Why don't we take this back to your cabin, Captain," Killian whispered, and Emma laughed.

"We have to go up on deck," Emma giggled as he nibbled at the juncture of her shoulder and neck. "And it's not going to happen if you keep doing that…Killian…"

A cough from the doorway made them both look up. Graham's face was livid as he stood there with his arms folded.

"I came for breakfast, not a show," he almost spat.

"Sorry," Emma murmured, disentangling herself from Killian and moving to head past Graham, but he held her back.

"I need a word with you."

Killian stopped too, but Graham added pointedly, "Alone."

Emma gave Killian a soft nod when he questioned her, leaving Emma and Graham alone in the galley to talk things out.

"What the fuck is going on, Ems," Graham hissed, "One minute it's a business deal and the next you're acting like he's the love of your life. Is this some kind of act? Does he know that? Do you know that?"

His tone got to her and she hissed back at him, "Just because you hate him doesn't mean that he's incapable of feeling."

"Look at what he's done to you, Emma!" Graham answered, reaching for her shoulders. "It's like you're a giggly teenager…"

"Maybe that's a good thing," she answered, trying to shrug him off. "In case you didn't realise, I didn't exactly get to  _be_  a teenager."

"You could have!" Graham answered angrily. "If you didn't run off with the Wayfaring Stranger. We could've stayed with Captain Roberts. We could have been teenagers."

"And I would have ended up with you, right?" Emma answered, staring at his blue eyes with fierce sarcasm. "I would have had your child and we would have settled down and none of this would've happened. I would be yours instead of my own."

"I never said that," Graham took a step back.

"But it's what you want," she answered with a sigh. "I know you, Graham. I know that you love me, and I've given you every opportunity to leave because lets face it, that would be the healthiest option, and instead, you trail after me like a lost puppy because you haven't found your way."

"I know my way, Emma," he answered, leaning back against the table resignedly. "It's with you."

"It's not, Grae," Emma murmured, walking over to him, and leaning her hands on his knees. "You need to get away. You need to move on."

"But I love you, Emma," he whispered, looking down.

"I know," she whispered, tilting his chin up. "And I'll always love you for being the one whose looked after me all these years. You are my brother in all but blood and I…what's that?"

Emma's eyes zeroed in on the piece of paper sticking out of his pocket. There was black writing on it that seemed oddly familiar. As though from a dream.

_…we are prayerful that soon Regina will be removed of power and Emma can come home…_

Emma's hand snatched the paper before Graham could react and she was opening it, her fingers shaking. That handwriting, that tone, even in writing…

"Mother," Emma whispered, her eyes skimming the rest of the letter.

_Graham,_

_Thank you for your last letter. That Emma has taken on her motherly role is truly something that warms my heart. From your tone though, it sound as though you are unsurprised. Are there perhaps things you are keeping from me? If it affects her, please share it with me. I need to know that she's okay._

_The plans are going well at our end, we have the blue fairy's assistance in protection as we work our way into the castle in order to get to Regina. We've found a way to remove her powers in order to capture her. We are prayerful that soon Regina will be removed of power and Emma can come home._

_With much thanks always,_

_Snow_

"What is this?" Emma said, dangerously low, as Graham waited in guilty silence. "You've been talking to my mother? How dare you keep this from me?!"

"It was her wish," he answered softly, "To keep you safe."

"Keep me safe?" Emma exclaimed. "I thought she abandoned me! I thought my parents had left me to the world, and here you are, with so much more. I can…I could go home…" She trailed off, lost on hopeful thoughts and the tearing within her. Graham had kept this from her for so many years. How could she...

"Emma- "

"No," she cut him off, stepping away from him until he was the only one left in the room. "Pack up your belongings. When we arrive in port I want you gone."

"But what about Scarlet…"

"Scarlet doesn't need you; a liar in her life," Emma answered finally. "She only needs me."

_And she has Killian._

And soon, she would have Henry.

She would have a family.

* * *

 

Emma spend most of the day with Killian and Scarlet on deck. She didn't see a glimpse of Graham but Killian found himself reacquainted with a lot of her crew. They seemed excited to have the infamous Captain Hook on board, even more so, knowing that he was the same Lieutenant who saved their Captain from drowning all those years before.

"Mommy," Scarlet said, tugging on her leg as Emma steered. "When will we be on land? I want warm food."

"Soon enough, Scar," Emma answered, "Tonight."

"And we shall feast on wondrous meats and sauces and hot potatoes baked in herbs," Killian came up the stairs melodramatically, scooping Scarlet into his arms and proceeding to tickle her. Her giggles echoed across the open sea, and Emma even caught the crew smiling at the sight.

As Scarlet settled in Killian's arms, she gave a wide yawn and let her head fall on his shoulder.

"Nap time," she murmured with a soft sigh. Emma offered to take her, but Killian declined, proceeding to take her downstairs and put her in her bed. Ten minutes later, he was back.

"What story was it this time?" Emma enquired.

"The proper ending of the one the other night," Killian answered, coming to stand behind her and thread his arms around her waist, hook over hand.

"And was it happy?" Emma sighed in contentment.

"Aye," Killian smiled, his head leaning comfortably on her shoulder. "It was."

It was another three hours before they docked, the men joyfully sprinting for shore as Killian, downstairs, let out a yelp of excitement as he won the board game he was playing against Scarlet. Only he could get excited about beating someone 25 years younger than him.

After the crew was gone, it was just Killian, Scarlet and Graham on board. She looked beyond the darkness to see the Jolly Roger further off shore. Graham came up onto the deck with his bag slung over his shoulder. He looked up at Emma once before continuing over the gangplank, his feet dragging as he went. Emma could swear she saw water in his eyes, but both of them were unrepentant. This was goodbye.

Killian came up with a confused expression, leading Scarlet by the hand. Scarlet clambered up to Emma, unseeing of Graham's silent escape, but Killian did. And he looked up at Emma's stony face apologetically.

"You should take Scarlet for dinner," Emma said quickly.

"You trust me?" Killian enquired and Emma nodded. It wasn't easy to earn her trust. But she trusted him enough to give him Scarlet for a few hours.

"Back after dinner, though," she said quickly. "We need to work out a plan of attack."

"Aye aye, Captain," Killian said slowly, a grin spreading. "You sure you'll be okay, love?"

"I will," she answered softly, "I'll see you later."

"Okay," he said as Scarlet scampered down to meet him. "I lov-"

"Emma?"

Three faces turned to face the person standing in the middle of the deck. For a moment, Emma thought she'd fallen asleep at the helm. That was the only explanation.

"Swan, who is this?" Killian asked, staring the figure up and down. "Should I dispatch him for you?"

"Emma," he simply whispered again. There was a reverent note to his voice that had her on edge; her anger kept at bay. No…not after all these years…not now…

Her voice formed his name, no louder than a whisper.

"Neal."


	16. I've started to make heaven my home

"Emma," he breathed for the third time, rushing forward as Emma found herself gravitating towards him as though within a dream. She was still hesitant to believe this was happening. How could it? She hadn't seen Neal in almost nine years. His face was…older…weary…but still the same.

And the smile that lit up his face as they collided, his arms enveloping her frozen figure. She didn't realise until then that she was shaking.

"Mommy, is this a friend?"

Scarlet's voice broke her out of her haze. Emma tore herself away from Neal with a sharp breath, a whispered. "No."

"Emma, I'm so sorry."

"NO!" she yelled, her anger rushing through her, her hands pushed him away. "Where the fu–"

She caught herself quickly. "Killian, get Scarlet out of here. I need to have a discussion with this man here."

"Will you be okay…" Killian looked between the two once more, still hesitant.

"Get out of here, Jones," she answered, her hand tightening on her sword. Killian was gone within moments, keeping Scarlet from seeing whatever violence was about to take place.

"You, Neal Gold," Emma hissed as his figure cowered. "You fucking coward. You left me! You handed me over to your father! You left me! And you never. Fucking. Came. Back!"

By the time she was finished, Neal was awaiting the hand that had curled into a fist, prepared to punch him hard enough to break his nose. But Emma was so unsure.

"Why?"

Neal finally got he chance to speak. He opened his mouth and said, without hesitation, "Emma, I love you."

Captain Swan's hand flew of its own accord, her fist colliding with his nose and emitting a sickening crunch. A loud yelp came from the man's mouth as his hands flew to his face.

"You broke my nose!" He yelled.

"I didn't hit had enough to break it," Emma waved away carelessly. "It will be, however, if you say that ever again. Along with various body parts and I will possibly put a dagger through your heart."

"I didn't mean to leave you," his muffled voice said, "My father was too quick for me to question…and every chance when I tried to come after you….I was blocked. I had no way to get to the castle and when I finally did, it was to find you gone. You and our son, disappeared. And so I found you and left you my ship. And I took off on horseback to scour the land for our son."

"He is  _not_  your son," Emma hissed.

"I know you think that way, Emma," Neal said, his face screwed up in sympathy and pain. "But realistically you aren't any more his mother."

"At least I tried to be!" She yelled. "If your father hadn't used his magic I would have taken my son and raised him. And you didn't try and come back for me – to help me find him. You left me a ship and ran for the hills. And you…wait…"

Neal's words were finally making sense in her head. "Wait…did you just say…Henry disappeared?"

"His name is Henry?" Neal's eyes opened wide. "It's a good name."

"So, he's not with the dark one?"

"When I spoke with the woman who lives there…Belle…she said he ran away when he was seven years old…"

Emma took a step back in horror, her hand closing over her mouth. "No…" Her child. Her child; a runaway. Just like her…

"Gods no." She felt the tears coming to her eyes and Neal stepped forward, his face marring his pain as he found himself holding her again. And at that moment, Emma didn't even care that the man she hated most in the world was comforting her as she grieved over Henry's lost childhood. She'd searched because she thought that might happen, but she'd always had hope, that maybe he'd been given a good family with the Dark One…

"Where is he?"

"I don't know, Emma," Neal answered, keeping a hold of her, and leading her back up to the helm. He grabbed a blanket nearby and threw it over her. "How am I meant to find him now."

"We'll find my father, Emma," Neal answered, "And I will reunite with him and he will assist us."

"Thank you," Emma whispered, unbelieving that she had said that, but too shocked to say anything else. "But, can you get off me?"

Neal didn't hesitate, letting her go and shuffling back, "So…Captain Swan…"

"We're not doing this," Emma almost laughed, her mood hysterical.

"We've got some time to pass before your crew comes back and we can set off," Neal answered and Emma rolled her eyes, settling in for another few hours of mindless chatter.

* * *

Killian was humming a low lullaby as Scarlet curled up on his shoulder. Crossing the gangplank, he mused on the tranquillity of the space, and the calmness of his mind. This had to be the first port in many where he hadn't even considered taking a woman into his bed. No, little Scarlet had purchased his time, and Emma Swan had taken up settlement in his thoughts.

As he walked to Scarlet's room, to tuck her into bed, he happened to walk past a sleeping pair on the upper deck. His muscles clenched, in annoyance, but he put Scarlet in her bed and came back up onto the deck slowly.

Who was that man to Emma? It was evident they had a past but…

"Swan," he whispered quietly, bending down by her side, his hand reaching out to stroke her cheek. "Swan, you should go to bed."

"Hmm?" she murmured in sleep, turning her eyes lazily to Killian, "Hello, you."

"Hello, love," he answered warmly. "Can you stand?"

"Too sleepy," she said softly, before shuffling and groaning at the creak her muscles made. "And sore. Scarlet's bed isn't good."

"Aye," Killian chuckled, lifting Emma into his arms despite her protestations.

"Wait, what about Neal," Emma murmured sleepily.

"The imbecile drooling on his sleeve?" Killian said, glancing back in distain. "If you truly want to keep him around, he's fine where he is."

"Mhmm." Her hands wound around his neck as she struggled into wakefulness. "How was your night? Is Scarlet…"

"She's asleep," he answered, walking down the steps with Emma in his arms. "Much like you, in that respect."

"I'm not asleep," Emma frowned, blinking her eyes to purposefully show him.

"Aye, Swan," Killian laughed, pushing open her cabin door with his foot before slipping into the darkness. He managed to find her bed by the limited light, lowering her carefully before reaching to light the candle nearby.

As the warm glow erupted, Killian found Emma's eyes fixated on him.

"Kiss me?" she whispered softly, her eyes wide and honest. Killian sat down on the bed beside her, leaning over to press his lips against hers. He'd proposed it chaste, but she had other ideas, clutching at his collar and tugging him forward with her lips.

"Emma," he groaned reluctantly. She was tired, and he still wasn't sure who that man was outside…

"Killian," she teased in response before frowning. She must have seen something in his eyes. His hesitancy.

"Who is he?" he asked directly. "Who is he to you?"

Emma sighed, before reaching to sit up against her pillows, "He was the man before you, before Graham…"

"The one who hardened your heart," Killian assumed.

Emma nodded, her eyes looking at the blankets, "He's Henry's father, Killian. And he…he came with bad news."

Killian's brow furrowed and Emma looked up at him, tears returning to her eyes. "He's not going to be there, Killian."

"What?"

"Henry," she breathed, "Henry's not at the castle. But Neal said he can talk his father into telling him where Henry went –"

"Wait," Killian shuffled back. No. "Neal's  _father_?"

Emma sighed.

"I'm sorry."

"The Dark One is your son's grandfather?" Killian enquired lowly, his voice sad. "Is that why you left Neal?"

"What?" Emma seemed astonished. "No, Killian. He left  _me_. And he never came back. And that was why I…" She sighed. "That was  _how_  I became the Captain of my own ship."

"He left you?" Killian's head turn back to the door, an angry edge to his voice. How dare he. He remembered what Emma was like when they first met. That was who Neal had made her. "I'll be back after I beat him to a bloody pul-"

"Killian, no," Emma pulled him back by his arm, her hand holding his face to look directly at her. And when he did, he found that he couldn't look away from those glistening emerald orbs. "It's in the past. And besides, I already gave him a sore face."

Killian smiled with that news, reaching forward to lay another chaste kiss on her lips. He pulled back to see her smiling at him in content, despite the leftover tears in her eyes. Killian's fingers came up to wipe them away and she whispered quietly.

"Lay down with me?"

Killian nodded, standing up and pushing his shoes off his feet as Emma did the same. He thought she might get changed, but when he came back to her with only his pants on, ready to slide in beside her, he instead found her back facing him, silently asking him to undo her corset ties. Of course, she had to be wearing the difficult one.

But the slow build of tension as he slid the ribbons through the small holes was almost too much to bear. He hadn't planned on taking Emma to bed that night, but when he traced his fingers along her shoulder blades, his breath heating her cool skin, her low moan set aside any reservations. The minute the corset was off, she spun around and took him into a searing kiss. Her tongue plundered his mouth, hot and needy.

As she was tracing her hands down his arms, she was met with his brace. Sometimes he took it off himself, and sometimes, he just left the hook on, but she hesitantly asked him, "May I?"

Killian felt a rush of affection along with a surge of apprehension. It was an ugly thing that he could usually hide in nightlight. But now…

He nodded, slowly, but surely.

She undid the brace carefully, each buckle undone with a soft kiss to his chest, his arm, his elbow. And finally, as she laid it aside, removing the handkerchief, that covered the skin, she placed several light kisses to his stump.

Leaning back, she pulled her dress over her head without delay, slipping out of her underwear until she was naked against Killian's body. She pushed him down on the bed, rolling over him and pinning him to the mattress.

"Hey," she said, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

Killian roamed his hands up her sides and rolling his thumbs over her waist, murmuring, "Hey."

Emma seemed happy with that, leaning down to kiss him once again, her body undulating over his as she reached down to untie his pants. "Emma," Killian found himself murmuring as she pushed his pants down desperately, her hand wrapping around him and stroking him until he was impossibly hard in her hand. "Emma is this because of him?"

"What?" she shot up, eyes wide. "No, no this is because of you. I want you, Killian. I want to make love to you."

Gods, she was beautiful. And she wanted to make love to him. And he would let her. Always. Even if she wouldn't say it aloud, she meant it in every touch. As she kissed down his chest, his breathing heavy as she slipped onto her, whimpering as he filled her. "You're so good," she whispered, leaning down to tug at his lip. "So good." She was nibbling at his shoulder, sucking and tonguing the area, sure to leave a mark that he would bear with pride.

"I'm yours," Killian whispered, caressing her face. "Always yours."

"You're such a sap," she grinned, but he could see the love floating behind her eyelids.

"Oh?" Killian asked, spinning her onto her back effortlessly. She let out a soft 'umph' when she hit the pillow before Killian was moving in her again, "A sap, am I? I happen to think you like saps."

"I don't know," Emma grinned, "This sap might have to prove he can – oh!"

"I think I can," Killian answered, as she pushed up into him, her legs wrapping around his hips. She was moaning, and with every thrust they made into each other, he groaned. She was so tight around him and he knew, with the way she was staring at him he was close. He reached down, his fingers easily finding her nub of pleasure that had her arching into him. He kissed her breasts as he drove her into oblivion, breathing over her stomach as he came with her, "I love you."

"I love you, too," Emma muttered in breathless ecstasy, bringing him up to kiss her. "Gods, I love you so much."

His eyes widened as he pulled back to look at her with wide eyes of astonishment and innocence. "You said it."

"I said what?" She smiled a knowing smile as Killian said gleefully once more:

"I love you."

"Idiot," she laughed, pushing him off her and pulling the blankets up over them. "I love you."

"Is this a competition?" Killian enquired, as Emma reached over to blow out the candle.

"If it is, I think I won," Emma answered in the darkness, settling against him. "You can give me a massage tomorrow as your penalty for losing."

"Hardly sounds like a punishment," Killian grinned into her shoulder as he wrapped his arms tightly around her.

"Sleep," she ordered, slapping his arm in annoyance.

"Aye aye, Captain."


	17. I'm going there to see my mother

Emma stirred in the early morning light to find a light tapping on her door. She groaned for a moment before saying, "Scarlet, it's too early, go back to bed."

"It's Neal."

Emma groaned, waking Killian up from his spot behind her. His arms were wrapped around her warmly and he clutched her tighter, his lips kissing her shoulder. "No," he grumbled childishly. "You're mine."

"Yes," she laughed, "I am. But I'm naked, and Neal will burst in here if he thinks something's wrong."

"Your boyfriends, Emma Swan, are a bloody nuisance," Killian growled, reluctantly rolling out of the bed and onto the floor. He himself went to go and grab his pants as Emma went into her cupboard and found some clothes for herself.

"I might go and grab some clothes from the  _Jolly_  before we head off," he commented and Emma began to cover herself with her corset.

"Okay," she smiled as she sucked in for moment. "You should wear the red vest."

"Oh?" he enquired with a smirk. "I will sometime when we're alone, love," he grinned lecherously. "But I'll stick to some shirts for hiking over to the castle."

"Fine," she sighed dramatically as Neal knocked a little more impatiently. "I'm coming, I'm coming," she said, throwing her white shirt on over her corset and opening the door. Neal was looking wide awake and ready for action despite the mottled purple bruise that was planted on his face.

"Morning, Emma, what's our plan of action?"

_It is way too early to be that energetic._

"Let me get us breakfast first, then we'll round up the crew and head over to the Jolly Roger."

"Okay," Neal said with a swift nod, "By the way, who's the guy and kid on board?"

"Erm, that's…"

"Captain Hook," Killian introduced himself, coming into the hall behind Emma, thrusting out his right hand for Neal to shake, his hook resting on the waistband of his tunic.

Neal's mouth almost fell open in surprise, his demeanour changing in an instant and Emma almost laughed. Suddenly he was standing at full height, eyeing Killian warily and shaking his hand with a firm grip. Emma rolled her eyes when she looked up at Killian, whose blue eyes were staring Neal down. She needed to find her son, not have two men try and stake a claim on her.

She slipped out from between them to find that Scarlet, in her adorableness, was making her own bed for the first time.

"Mommy!" she said in excitement, rushing towards her, Emma was surprised to find that she'd also attempted to dress herself. But her pants were on back to front and her shirt was inside out. Not to mention she was running around barefoot.

"Whoa whoa, honey," she said quickly, grabbing her before she could run out the door. "Let's get you ready for the day."

"I  _am_  ready," she pouted, her dark hair in disarray. I that moment she looked so much like Ruby that Emma sighed aloud in reminiscence.

"Come here," Emma whispered, quickly rearranging Scarlet's clothing and finding her tiny boots that were almost too small for her now. They'd have to get new ones soon. She was growing up so fast.

And Henry was out there alone.

She tugged Scarlet into a tight hug, her arms encircling her with warmth. The little girl hugged her back with her small arms, asking "What's wrong, mommy?"

"I love you," Emma answered, pulling back to kiss her forehead.

"I love you, too," she answered with a wide grin. "Where's daddy?"

Emma laughed. Of course, she asked for the man.

"Come on," Emma continued, grabbing her hand and walking with her down to the galley. Neal and Killian and the limited crew that hadn't stayed in the town were already eating some fresh bread they'd brought back. Emma was excited to introduce Scarlet to strawberry jam because they hadn't had any in years!

Neal was discussing battle plans with Killian, and it seemed as though they were on the verge of arguing, so Emma made her way quickly over. Scarlet took her seat on the bench beside Killian, standing up to give him a kiss on the cheek before sitting down to eat.

Emma took the remaining seat beside Neal who was looking intently at Scarlet and Killian, a little confused.

"Is she your daughter?" Neal enquired gesturing between the two of them.

"May as well be," Killian answered with a non-committal shrug and a fond glance at Scarlet, who was cocking her head at Neal.

"I don't like you," she said abruptly and both Killian and Emma almost spat out their bread. Gods above, Scarlet was the best judge of character Emma had seen in her life.

Neal wasn't sure what to make of that, blinking his eyes in wonder before Emma decided she should probably tell Scarlet off for impropriety, even if she was a hundred percent right.

"Scarlet, we don't judge people before we know them," Emma berated, inwardly smiling. "This is Neal. He's...the father of Henry, the boy we're trying to find."

"Oh, okay," Scarlet nodded at Emma before turning back to stare. "Mr. Neal, I don't like you."

"Alright, little lady, I think we need to have a chat," Killian said, turning to her, and lifting her off her seat.

"But my breakfast!" she protested with a stomp of her foot.

Killian grabbed her bread before shuffling her out of the room. "I'll take her over to the Jolly for a bit, love," he commented to Emma.

"Thank you," Emma answered gratefully. The last thing she wanted was a pissed off ex-pirate captain turning on them.

"Are you… _with_  him?" Neal enquired, looking at Emma out of the corner of his eye.

"Not that it's any business of yours, but yes."

"I just…Captain Hook, Emma? Really?"

"And you think you're any better, Mr. Fall-of-the-face-of-the-earth."

"Emma…"

"I know," she sighed. It wasn't his fault, all they'd been through. But she'd blamed him for so long, so preoccupied with hating him and getting her son back… "I'm not going to get over it in one night, Neal. And we'll never be what we were, so don't hope."

He was quiet for a moment before muttering, "Okay."

In no way did she believe him.

* * *

 

Killian was met by the faces of his joyous crew when he crossed the gangplank. They seemed curious about why he was carrying a child, but none questioned him. He headed straight to his cabin, bypassing Smee on the way and congratulating him on a week of solid leadership. By the time he got into his cabin Scarlet was scampering about like it was Yule and he hurried to get a bag and some clothes before she managed to break something.

"Daddy, where will I sleep?" she enquired as she climbed onto his bed and began to bounce on the flimsy matress.

"What's this cap'n?" Killian heard Chip's voice up above on deck. "Managed to get a daughter in the past few days? I'm sure that's physically impossible."

"Shut it, Chip," he laughed walking over and pushing open the hatch. The boy's mop of dark brown hair appeared and for a moment, Killian was struck with a sense of déjà vu. But he couldn't put his finger on it and let it go, welcoming the boy into his cabin.

Chip bent down to face Scarlet who was now standing beside Killian's desk cheekily, having just rifled through his bottom drawer, the key she'd found under his bed swinging from her right hand and the drawing of her mother clutched in the other. Killian's eye widened at the sheer gall of Scarlet, not to mention her skills in thievery.

He was proud.

"Hey there," the boy said to her face, "I'm Chip. What's your name?"

"Scarlet," she said with a soft smile. "Captain Scarlet."

"Oh?" Chip said with a raised eyebrow. It reminded Killian of his own antics. "And where's your ship, Captain?"

"This is my ship!" she said with a delighted giggle. "And we're all going to live here. Me and mommy and daddy and Henry. We're all going to live happily ever after."

Killian didn't miss the way that Chip froze with Scarlet's words, nor the sudden pallor of his face. A face that he was coming to recognise more and more with each moment.

"Chip…" Killian began questioningly. "When you said you knew how to get into the Dark One's castle –"

"No," he said quickly, looking back up at Killian. There was a fear in his eyes that the Captain had never seen before. The swift change in his demeanour left Killian astonished. Those words shouldn't harm him… "No, I don't know anything."

"But you said you knew a lady, Belle…"

"No, no I don't." The boy was turning to climb back up the ladder, but Killian was quicker.

"Chip," he said again, holding his forearm, "You said you knew. If you don't, we've got no chance of getting the information of this boy's whereabouts out of Rumplestiltskin."

"You said you were going to get his dagger and kill him," Chip said with wide and fierce eyes, a deep shade of green. "You promised you would kill him."

"Something more important has come up," Killian groaned in frustration. "The dark one captured a boy, my lover's son and he's gone missing. We need to know."

"Well the son of your lover – if that's what she is now – can join the club," Chip sighed, "He has to die, Cap'n. Before he does this again."

"You were captured by Rumplestiltskin?" Killian's eyes widened, and Chip must have heard the knowing nature of his tone because the next second the teenage boy was sprinting up the stairs and all the pieces fell into place. A boy who'd run away as a child, through a portal where he grew up, adapting to a different time; a different land. A boy on the streets who wanted to sail away from everything…

He had to be.

Emma was just crossing the gangplank onto the Jolly Roger when she spotted Chip sprinting towards her, Killian yelling after him, "Chip! Stop! Please, we can talk!"

But Chip didn't stop, not until he was standing in front of Emma and she saw the fear in his eyes. He was as pale as a ghost, his eyes flickering between Emma and the man standing behind her, and he took a terrified step back.

"Chip, what's wrong?" Emma asked in a worried, voice, taking a step onto the ship.

"Stay away from me!" he yelled, taking a few more steps back until he was backed against the mast. "And you!" he turned on Neal as Emma looked up at Killian with hope he could tell her what just happened. But he was simply staring at Chip sorrowfully until Emma heard him mutter, in an almost whisper, but carrying on the breeze, the true name of the cowering boy before them; the name that stopped time.

"Henry."


	18. She said she'd meet me when I come to see her again

The boy was so scared, and to be honest, Killian couldn't blame him. After thinking that all he wanted was to have the Dark One pay for the darkness he had brought to those around him. For being the power hungry fiend who killed without a second thought. He was a boy who thought his parents had abandoned him to be raised by the Dark One. A boy who ran away to a different world to escape his life…

"Henry," Emma repeated after Killian said the words. She glanced from the boy to Killian in confusion, "That's impossible. Henry's a child. Eight years old."

"Unless Henry chose to escape to an alternate world," Killian said as he approached. "Portals are never certain things, time is uncertain. In that world, he grew up. And when we returned, almost no time had passed. But Chip…Henry, he was –"

"Stop calling me that," Chip's voice rang out as he stared down Killian. "I'm not Henry!"

But the wavering in his voice gave him away.

"My boy," Emma breathed, her voice breaking, rushing forward with her arms open as Henry stepped back, pulling his sword from its sheath and warning her off with it.

"Daddy, what's happening?" a soft whisper said. "Why is mommy fighting the boy who looks like Mr. Neal."

In the moment that Henry was distracted by Scarlet, Emma lurched forward and with a practised swing, eased the sword from the boy's grasp.

"No!" he yelled, as his sword clattered to the floor. But Emma was reaching for him, her hand to cradle his face.

"Please," she whispered, as her hand gently slid along his jaw. "Please, Henry."

"You left me," he muttered in pain, his heart hardened against her. "You left me with him."

"I didn't," Emma whispered. "I'm so sorry. I tried to get back to you so many times after the Dark One sent me away. But every time he was there to stop me and I couldn't. I couldn't get to you and it killed me."

"And you," Henry turned on Neal. "You were my father and you never even tried to reason with your father for me."

"You were gone by the time I did, Henry," Neal said, his head bowed in shame, "I'm sorry."

"Well, isn't that fantastic," Henry threw up his arms, and walked away from his mother again. "You're all sorry. Even you, Captain," he pointed at Killian who clutched Scarlet's hand a little tighter. "I bet you're wishing that you'd known sooner to reunite your lover with her son."

"Chip, don't do this," Killian begged.

"I could do it you know," the boy said, turning back to his parents. "I could walk straight off this ship and never see any of you again. Thanks to you all, I know how to survive on my own."

"But Henry…Chip…you don't  _have_  to anymore," Emma pleaded. Killian could see the fierce resolve – the pain – in his eyes, so similar to Emma's. "You don't have to be alone. I was once too. You have…no idea how much like me you really are…"

It was wearing away at him. Her words had power, as Killian knew so very well. And his feet weren't so steady anymore. He didn't seem like he was about to run for the hills.

"I will stay with you," Emma said softly, stepping closer to him. "If it's what you want."

"But I don't know that you will," he murmured, his eyes looking into those so similar to his own, "How can I? I don't know you."

"Then we'll get to know each other," Emma said, with a pained expression. "Please Henry, let me try. I will be there for you always. Just please, let me try."

The ship was silent. The only sound came from the ropes swaying in the breeze until Henry looked up at his mother, a little softer.

"And what will we do? Sail the seas and be as simply pirate as we can?"

"We'll stay here," Emma offered. "Nothing has to change. Well, Scarlet and I will be here, but nothing will change."

Emma reached out again, a gently hand on his shoulder.

"I love you, Henry," she said, "Whether you like me or not. I love you."

Another moment of bated breath passed before Henry said, with slight reluctance, "Okay."

And Killian let out the breath he didn't realise he'd been holding, tugging Scarlet into his arms and giving her an enormous hug.

They delayed another night, Emma and Neal taking Chip out for dinner. Scarlet protested, wondering why daddy would let mommy go to dinner with the man she didn't like, and Killian explained it as best as he could. Saying that Neal was Henry's father and Emma was Henry's mother seemed to make the tired girl frustrated though.

"But why aren't  _you_  Henry's daddy?"

And that was most definitely  _not_  a conversation he wanted to get in to with a four year old.

He tucked her into his own bed with a cut down version of Westley and Buttercup's tale. It was the great pirate romance that even the most ruthless of cads knew. She was out before he hit the end and he simply blew out the candle and returned to the deck where he waited patiently for the three of them to return.

They were talking their way up the gangplank, which was good. Speaking terms was a step up from trying to run away. Chip gave his mother a hesitant hug and his father a firm handshake before heading below decks to the crew's quarters.

Emma spent a moment chatting to Neal before he nodded and headed back to the Wandering Lady. "I'm sending Smee over to watch you!" she called after him, and Neal raised his hand in acknowledgement. Killian hopped down the stairs and knocked on Smee's door, giving him his instructions before heading back up to where Emma was now slumped on a crate against the mast.

"I take it everything went well," Killian enquired, approaching her slowly, unsure of her mood.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose," Emma sighed, but a soft smile graced her face all the same, looking up at him, she whispered, "Thank you."

"Anytime, lass," he said in relief, sitting down on the edge of the crate beside her and wrapping his arm around her shoulders, leaning over to delicately kiss her forehead. "So he's come around?"

"It'll be a while," she answered, her thumbs playing with the edge of her shirt, "But I think we'll get there."

Killian was quiet for a moment as he watched her fidget nervously, but a moment later, she stood up wordlessly and headed up to the helm. As she stood there and watched the sea, he was once again struck by her regal beauty.

But when she looked up at him, there was a pain in her eyes.

"I know you want to get revenge on Rumplestiltskin after what happened to Milah…and your hand…but I just…" she bit down on her lip nervously, her skin flushed pink with the cold. "I can't go with you Killian. Not when I've just found Henry. I know we were supposed to do this together but I –"

Killian shut her up by pulling her to him by her waist and crushing the sound from her lips with his own. He kissed her with all he had, every feeling he had ever felt, pouring into those simple movements until, breathless, he pulled away.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I'm sorry," she answered, her eyes closed.

"Hey," he said, cradling her face in his hands, forcing her to raise her eyes. "It doesn't have to be today."

"What?"

"When it's all settled. When everything's calm, we'll do it then. Protect the world."

"I'd like that," Emma smiled, rubbing her nose against his. "Truly, Killian. I don't know how you came to forgive me, but I will be eternally grateful that you did."

"As for you, Emma Swan," he said, with a grin, "I'm just glad that you learnt to trust me, and that you reminded me of who I am…past the hook."

"Oh, I don't know," she smirked, "I'm sure we could think of some adventurous things to do with the hook."

"Ooh, now that's my kind of woman," he grinned, tugging her impossibly close until he wasn't sure they could ever be separated. It was then that he noticed the almost imperceptible uncertainty in her eyes. As though there was something about herself that she was doubting. It wasn't her feelings. It wasn't what she'd done for Henry. It was…

"Have you told me a lie, Emma Swan?" he grinned cheekily, not expecting it to be anything serious. But when she blinked a few times and swallowed nervously, he felt his hands falter from their grip on her waist.

"Swan?" he enquired hesitantly. "It's nothing right? Tell me it's nothing, love."

"It's not," she murmured, her green eyes locking on his before offering, "You might want to take a seat."

He sank down onto the nearest barrel and she leant against the helm, , her eyes glazed over with pain of the story she had yet to tell him.

"Emma, if it hurts you, you don't have to…"

"No," Emma said adamantly, "You trust me. It's about time I trusted you too."

And without further delay she went on, "I was born in a castle, on the edge of a kingdom, growing up fearing…"

* * *

 

"Captain, Captain!"

Emma was nearing the end of her history before meeting Killian, as Jameson came hurrying up the gangplank. Killian's face was a mask of indifference, his mouth held in a tight line, his façade almost entirely blank. But when Jameson called, he shot straight back into captain-mode.

"Aye, Jameson!"

"Guards bearing the insignia of the good king and queen are making their way to the dock. It isn't safe for us here, Captain."

Emma watched Killian's figure slump in defeat and with a furrowed brow, she headed towards him. Her hand made contact with his shoulder and he stiffened, his voice coming out in a broken whisper.

"I'm going to lose you."

"What?" Emma spun him around, eyes wide, demanding, "Why would you think that?!"

"You heard Jameson," Killian sighed. "Your parents are on their way here, Princess."

"No," she said, adamantly, fire running through her veins, "No matter what they say. I will not leave you. Okay? They were the ones who never came back for me. What they're doing here anyway, is their own concern. They certainly didn't come for me. It's longer than a day's ride to get here from our land."

"But what if they take you home and I never see you again?" he seemed so vulnerable. "I always thought we were a team you and I, but you're so much more…"

"Stop it, Killian," she ordered. "Look at me."

He kept his eyes downcast until she forced his eyes up to look at her. " _We_  are so much more. I'm still the hard-assed Captain Swan that you hated. I'm still Emma, your Swan, your love. I might just happen to hold the title of Princess in there somewhere."

"And I hold nothing except you," Killian answered honestly.

"Then it's up to you, Captain," Emma answered. "Do we sail away from my parents and leave half your crew behind, or do we give it up? The last sixteen years of my life, the last four of yours, do we throw it all away?"

"I'd give up everything for you, you know that, Swan," Killian muttered, kissing her gently on the lips. But Emma pulled him to her desperately. She had no idea the people that her parents were now. Sixteen years could change a lot of things.

"I wish we could've stayed here," she breathed longingly, "You, me, Scarlet and Henry."

"Maybe someday we will, Swan," Killian answered, looking off into the distance where he could hear the distant footfalls of armed guards. "You get Scarlet, I'll grab Henry. We'll meet them as a family."

And when they were standing on the dock, Henry beside his captain and Scarlet in the hands of Emma, her arms wrapped around her neck, it was as a family they stood. Killian held Emma with his bad arm, a hand on Henry's shoulder as the league came into sight. A strong looking man with a raven-haired beauty beside him rushed forward, bow and arrow and sword raised. They stopped short when they realised who was standing there. Emma spotted Graham leaning against the Portmaster's shack and ignored him pointedly.

"Emma?" Snow said hesitantly, lowering her sword. Even though King David's eyes focused on every person standing there with an inquisitorial look, he eventually settled on her, his sword dropping to the ground. Apparently, despite their coming here, they hadn't truly been prepared for their daughter to be standing there, fully grown, with what looked to be a family.

Snow White walked slowly towards her, until she was standing before her. She reached out to touch her daughter's face, and despite her anxieties, despite the fact that Emma resented her mother, she felt the tears in her eyes at the warmth of her mother's touch.

"Who is this, mommy?"

Snow smiled at the little girl who spoke, a warm motherly smile just as Emma whispered hopefully, "This is my mommy, Scarlet."

"Hello," Scarlet said with a hesitant smile.

"Hello, Scarlet," Snow said hesitantly, "Perhaps, you and your mommy would like to come home with us to our castle."

"Are you a Princess?" Scarlet's eyes widened and Snow's hopeful eyes flittered between her and Emma with a soft smile.

"No I'm not," Snow answered, before touching her on the nose affectionately, "But you are."

Scarlet's mouth opened in shock, "I'm a princess, did you hear that mommy, I'm a princess!"

Emma found herself smiling despite all the confusion that surrounded them. "We'll come with you mom," Emma finally whispered, giving her mum a soft look, "For now."

"Thank you, Emma," Snow said, holding her free hand between her own in gratitude, a tear of joy slipping from her eye. Emma looked up at Killian with a soft questioning smile which he returned. Looking at Henry, she saw him nodding in acceptance as Snow whispered once more, "Thank you."


	19. Epilogue

**A Year Later**

"Emma…" Killian groaned, tightening his grip on the sleeping woman in his arms. They were lying in an enormous bed and yet they were pressed together as though there was no room. It was how they preferred it, even when their bed was as soft as swan feathers and today was the day they were to be married.

"What are you doing in here?" Emma murmured, opening one eyes to peek at him. "You aren't supposed to see the bride before the wedding."

"I think that only applies when the bride doesn't tease her fiancé into bed on the eve of her wedding," Killian answered, his teeth nipping at her jaw. "I should leave before your mother comes in and bites my head off."

"They agreed to the wedding," Emma reminded him. "You don't have to worry."

"About  _that_ ," he rolled his eyes, "But I don't think they'll love me for ravishing you night after night. After all, aren't Princesses supposed to be  _virtuous_  for their wedding nights?"

"I have a son," she answered, with a kiss, "No one's expecting that. You're lucky this isn't a marriage based on an alliance. I for one, don't want people watching while I'm fucking you."

"Oh?" Killian raised a brow. "You do enjoy being in control."

"I just want to go home, Killian," she replied with a soft sigh. "I just want to go home."

"And we will, darling," he grinned. "When we're man and wife."

"I like the sound of that," Emma answered, nuzzling his nose before she basically pushed him out of the bed. "Now go, before my mother  _does_ come."

"See you at the altar, Swan," he grinned, leaning back to place a tender kiss on her forehead.

"Wouldn't miss it," she farewelled with a happy smile as he slipped from the room, the large timber door snapping closed behind him.

When Emma finally rolled out of bed, it was to let in her temporary maid, Rachel, to draw her a bath.

"Are you excited?!" Rachel enquired with a wide grin. The girl was so excited for the wedding, despite not even knowing Emma that well. After all, since both her and Killian had been pardoned and commissioned with free reign against Regina, they split their time equally between the castle and their ship. But for the last month, they'd been stuck on land, hence their needing to feel the sea beneath them.

"I suppose," Emma answered with a sigh, sliding into the warm water, "I never really expected that I'd be back here, getting married and doing Princess things again…"

"But isn't it fun?"

"It is, a little. I'm quite glad that my mother has given me freedom. Now that Regina has been incapacitated and her magic stripped, Killian and I can just enjoy our honeymoon."

"But you're taking the children aren't you?" Rachel's brow furrowed and Emma laughed.

"Neal arrived yesterday," Emma grinned, "He's going to take Henry and Scarlet. As long as he's got Tink with him, Scarlet won't complain too much. She adores the fairy even if she hates Neal."

Rachel laughed, "The castle will be boisterous when you all finally return for good."

"It'll be quite a few years," Emma reminded her. "Only once Snow and David resign the throne."

"Indeed," Rachel agreed with a nod as she started to brush out Emma's hair. "Now, your mother has said that she won't intrude on your morning, but she will be here at three o'clock with your dress. Before then, I am to do your nails, your hair and makeup. We will have brunch before I start all this, but I want you to relax. Everything is ready and I am getting you beautified. Not that you aren't always beautiful, Princess," she added, hesitantly,

"It's Emma, Rachel," she corrected with a smile. "And thank you."

"You're welcome."

* * *

As Killian was on his way up from the kitchen with an apple in his hand, he almost ran straight into Neal. The man was running his hands through his hair in frustration; pacing.

"You alright, mate?" Killian enquired.

"I was…" Neal made a face, "I was going to go and see my father."

"You saw him a few weeks ago, didn't you?" Killian posed, "Why is it such a big deal now?"

"Because," Neal hesitated, looking up at Killian, "Belle said that he's been getting better. Less crazy. More like how he used to be. And I'm not sure if I'm going to be disappointed; if I see him and he's not all I remember him to be…"

"All you can do it see," Killian suggested, uneasy with discussing the Dark One. The fact that Snow White and Prince Charming had captured the Dark One before they found him and Emma still wore at him. It felt like he hadn't satisfied his need sometimes, but those moments were fleeting. Because then he remembered what he had instead of revenge, and it was that much better than anything he could have hoped for.

"I guess so," Neal finally breathed. "Thanks, Killian. Are you excited for today?"

"Definitely," he grinned, "You're still okay to take Henry and Scarlet?"

"Tink's looking forward to it," he answered with a grin, and a wistful look as he mentioned the woman he loved. "I'll see you at the wedding."

"Good luck, Neal," Killian bade. Neal smiled. And left.

* * *

 

"What's that?"

"It's called a tiara, Scarlet," Mary Margaret said, lifting the bejewelled silver off her vanity. With a soft smile, she leant down beside the five-year-old and offered it to you, "Since you're a princess, you can wear it if you'd like."

Scarlet grinned and took it gently, "Thank you Grandma."

"You're welcome," Snow answered in satisfaction, "Now. Where is your brother?"

"Grandpa said something about training…"

"On your mother's wedding day!" Snow seemed outraged and Scarlet merely shrugged.

"I think Grandpa was nervous."

"Of course he was," Snow sighed, rolling her eyes. "Okay, let's go and find your brother and grandpa so we can get them ready for the wedding."

"Because they're hopeless on their own," Scarlet replied matter-of-factly as she took her grandmother's hand. Snow merely laughed.

"Exactly."

* * *

 

When Emma stood in front of the mirror, dressed in her wedding gown with her hair falling over her shoulders, pinned with soft diamonds, her servant, her mother and her daughter all collectively sighed. Some wistfully, some in awe, but either way, Emma felt beautiful.

And when she walked down that aisle, following her daughter's trail of rose petals with her arm hooked through her son's, she saw Killian adoring face, and she blushed. Even after all this time, his gaze contained all the love and desire she ever could have hoped for.

When Henry gave her away, he gave them both the biggest grin, and when Scarlet handed them the rings, she almost jumped for joy. And when they kissed, all those seated, rose to their feet in applause and cheers for the happy ending of the lost princess and her pirate.

And when they danced in the aftermath until they were giddy with happiness, when Emma had thrown her bouquet into a surprised Tink's arms, and they had taken all the well wishing they possibly could, Killian Jones swept Emma Swan away to his ship where he carried her across the threshold murmuring, "Home, sweet, home."

He kissed her tenderly when he put her down on the deck, but she practically ran to his cabin, climbing down the ladder before trapping him there, the minute Killian entered.

"You certainly are in control tonight, love."

"I like that," Emma grinned, trapping his lips in a searing kiss, of lips and teeth and tongues as he tried to undo her wedding dress. But struck by an idea, Emma pulled away, watching as he tried to follow her and ended up unsteady on his feet.

"Can you lie down on the bed?" Emma asked with a smirk.

"As you wish," he grinned, knowing exactly what the words meant.

"Can you restrain yourself from touching?" Emma grinned as she began to undo the back of the dress.

"With great difficulty, yes," Killian responded, his eyes already darkening with lust as he reached over to light a candle.

"Then get ready for a wedding night you will not soon forget," Emma challenged, the white dress falling to the floor to reveal the sheerest of underclothes that brought him to awareness in a split second.

Killian didn't forget that night. Ever.

* * *

 

In the glowing aftermath of their consummation, Emma was the happiest she had ever been in her life. She reached up to kiss him, only to see him smiling down at her in contentment.

"You know I lied, " Emma whispered as he nuzzled his nose against hers, lying in their comfortable bed, moulded around him. "When we met. I never would have harmed your pretty face."

"I prefer devilishly handsome, love," he chuckled, blue eyes sparkling in mirth.

"Aye," she finished, snuggling up against his chest. "My devilishly handsome pirate."

"Always yours, Swan," he answered kissing her hair. "My Swan."

And in that blissful moment, they gave into their exhaustion, and held each other into sleep. Killian was just on the edge of oblivion when Emma murmured:

"It's Jones, now actually."

With those words they were both suddenly very awake. And they made love once more before sinking back down into the pillows, boneless and completely sated. For now.

"If we keep going like this we'll have another Jones to deal with," Emma joked and Killian answered with a sly grin, "You aren't giving me much incentive to stop."

Reminded of the dream she'd had so wistfully a year ago, Emma grinned hopefully, "So, you want more kids?"

"To have you bear my child would be the greatest gift of all, Emma," Killian whispered, tenderly stroking her side as they fell instantaneously into a sleep filled with beautiful dreams of the future.

* * *

 

Nerina Jones came along nine months later. Liam Jones, a year and half after that. And it wasn't for another fifteen years that Snow and David asked Emma to take the throne, and she did so gladly with a supportive Killian by her side. Henry was married to a lovely, fiery, Princess from the East, and Scarlet was currently in an on and off relationship with Graham's son, Nate, but they were going to stay together eventually. Emma and Killian simply knew these things.

As for Nerina? She was a heartbreaker with her mother's personality, hair and face, but her father's eyes and flirtations. Every boy, royal or non-royal, pined for her. But she had eyes only for one man.

"Oh, mom, he's gorgeous," she breathed hurriedly as they walked the halls. "A real gentlemen. And he's asked me to dinner before his ship leaves for Arendelle in the morning and I really want to go –"

"Ship?" Emma halted her questioningly.

"He's a naval officer," Nerina said with a blush. She knew her parents story… minus the adult parts.

"Well I don't suppose I can stop you then," Emma sighed and Nerina threw her arms around her mother in excitement. "Don't forget your sword!"

"Mom…" she dragged out.

"Dagger at least," Emma warned and Nerina brightened.

"Thank you!" she said quickly, giving her a kiss on the cheek before running off. Emma found Killian in their room and stood in the doorway watching him work on his model ship with both of his hands (Rumplestiltskin as a partial apology had returned it years ago), before musing. "They grow up so fast."

"Aye," Killian answered, putting down his work and getting up to meet her, wrapping his arms around her in a warm embrace in the doorway. "They do."

"I love you, Captain Hook," Emma said with a soft smile, her hand tangling in the necklace that even after all these years, he didn't take off.

"I love you, Captain Swan," he grinned, leaning down to kiss her just as Liam poked his head out of his doorway.

"I heard Neri's going out on a date," he said, his mop of black hair falling into his eyes, "Does this mean I can go on a date with –"

"No," Emma and Killian chorused. Liam eyes them in annoyance before shutting his door.

"He's too much like you," Emma sighed.

"Even I wasn't that into girls at thirteen," Killian seemed offended, tugging Emma back to him. "Besides, I love you, my Queen. Always yours, Swan."

"Always yours," Emma agreed, sealing their fates with one more kiss.


End file.
